OLD BOHEMIAN MEAD

Now, here's something you don't find everyday. In fact, I'd wager that you could travel the pubs, wine bars and hostelries of the country and all requests for a glass of mead would be met with a look of bemusement. Because surely this drink died out in the middle ages (although of course there are a few home brew mead websites out there). So naturally, I was intrigued to see a bottle of the stuff sitting proudly in the window of a Prague booze shop. The fact that it came in a gloriously kitsch bottle - shaped like a naked woman (see illustration) - ensured that I had no choice but to hand over a doubtlessly excessive, tourist-trap amount of cash to the sniggering owner. After all, I figured, even if the stuff tastes like vomit, I at least get an entertaining decanter out of it.

It doesn't tastes like vomit, I must say. In fact, it tastes like what it is: bee's honey, water and yeast, fermented for a few months. It's shockingly sweet - but not in an alcopop sense. Rather, it's sticky, cloying, and somehow feels... well, wrong as you swig it down. Much like honey, really, and very odd in an alcoholic drink.

Testing this out in Prague, the general consensus from the three other people who tasted it was that none of them wanted to try it ever again, which I think is a little harsh. After a few glasses, the stuff does grow on you, and it's actually quite easy to drink. It just doesn't taste like booze. It doesn't taste like any drink you will have tasted before, in fact, and so I'd say that every adventurous person should at least try it. And a bottle of Mead in your drinks cabinet (or wherever the hell you keep your bottles) will certainly set you apart from the hoi-polloi.

DAVID FLINT