Havoc Mead is awesome. They make some of our favorite meads in North America. They have a ruggedly handsome Head Meadmaker. They have mead in freakin’ cans! How cool is that?
But seriously, who the heck is Havoc Mead and why do we keep talking about them?
Since we’re into full disclosure here at Groennfell Meadery (it’s actually part of our mission statement), we thought everyone should know the awesome story of how Havoc came to be.
Long, long ago (back in 2014), Ricky the Meadmaker became lonesome and concerned. As he wandered the meadery one morning, it occurred to him that there would be no one to carry on his legacy after he was gone.[1]
“I need protégé. I need a retainer. I need an apprentice.” Spake Ricky into the early-morning darkness.
Later in the day, Kelly (who is not aware that there is early-morning darkness) heard Ricky’s concerns and decreed them valid. A search might commence to find one worthy to study with this paragon of meadmaking. But how?
Games were considered. Perhaps competitions of knowledge, strength, and woodscraft? But nothing could be agreed upon, and despair fell upon the land.
Lo, at about two o’clock, the phone rang. Was it a telemarketer? Vermont Liquor Control? Larry from Chicago with a great deal on C Grade Mangos? Nay, it was none of these. It was a boy. A boy named Erik. And he wanted to brew mead.
But seriously, who the heck is Havoc Mead and why do we keep talking about them?
Since we’re into full disclosure here at Groennfell Meadery (it’s actually part of our mission statement), we thought everyone should know the awesome story of how Havoc came to be.
Long, long ago (back in 2014), Ricky the Meadmaker became lonesome and concerned. As he wandered the meadery one morning, it occurred to him that there would be no one to carry on his legacy after he was gone.[1]
“I need protégé. I need a retainer. I need an apprentice.” Spake Ricky into the early-morning darkness.
Later in the day, Kelly (who is not aware that there is early-morning darkness) heard Ricky’s concerns and decreed them valid. A search might commence to find one worthy to study with this paragon of meadmaking. But how?
Games were considered. Perhaps competitions of knowledge, strength, and woodscraft? But nothing could be agreed upon, and despair fell upon the land.
Lo, at about two o’clock, the phone rang. Was it a telemarketer? Vermont Liquor Control? Larry from Chicago with a great deal on C Grade Mangos? Nay, it was none of these. It was a boy. A boy named Erik. And he wanted to brew mead.
Three days later, Erik was hired as Ricky’s apprentice. Six months later, apprenticeship over, Erik was presented with this curious offer: “Would you like to start a meadery and be Groennfell’s competition?”
The thought on our side was that sharing tanks, supply-chains, distributors, and so on could only benefit both parties. We also face a problem that stores often don’t know where to put us on the shelf. We look ridiculous next to the other meads, but we don’t quite fit anywhere else. Wouldn’t it be great if there were other Craft Meads on the market?
Considering all of this, Erik — sager though perhaps a little wizened from his months of toil at Groennfell — decided that he would come on as the head meadmaker for Havoc. He would design, and brew, and travel, and drink in this new guise.
Once Erik the ’Prentice now, reborn, Erik the Meadmaker. [2]
And over the months recipes were developed, cans designed, batches made and, after what felt like an interminable wait, on August 1st, 2015, the great people of Vermont could at long last have a little more Havoc in their lives.
The End.
[1] Not dead, just gone. Ricky is unclear about his own mortality.
[2] Just to be clear, Erik still has to report to Kelly the Boss, but Ricky has no power over him.[3]
[3] Except counting arm wrestling. Ricky definitely has power over Erik in arm wrestling.
The thought on our side was that sharing tanks, supply-chains, distributors, and so on could only benefit both parties. We also face a problem that stores often don’t know where to put us on the shelf. We look ridiculous next to the other meads, but we don’t quite fit anywhere else. Wouldn’t it be great if there were other Craft Meads on the market?
Considering all of this, Erik — sager though perhaps a little wizened from his months of toil at Groennfell — decided that he would come on as the head meadmaker for Havoc. He would design, and brew, and travel, and drink in this new guise.
Once Erik the ’Prentice now, reborn, Erik the Meadmaker. [2]
And over the months recipes were developed, cans designed, batches made and, after what felt like an interminable wait, on August 1st, 2015, the great people of Vermont could at long last have a little more Havoc in their lives.
The End.
[1] Not dead, just gone. Ricky is unclear about his own mortality.
[2] Just to be clear, Erik still has to report to Kelly the Boss, but Ricky has no power over him.[3]
[3] Except counting arm wrestling. Ricky definitely has power over Erik in arm wrestling.
