When I first heard about mead, I pictured medieval feasts with knights clinking goblets of golden nectar. But after a friend handed me a bottle of homemade mead last summer—a fizzy, floral drink that tasted like sunshine—I realized this ancient beverage isn’t just for history buffs. It’s for anyone with a sweet tooth, a tight budget, and a little patience.

The best part? You don’t need fancy equipment or beekeeping skills to make mead. In fact, my first batch cost me less than $20 and tasted better than some store-bought versions. Let me walk you through the process step-by-step, sharing the lessons I’ve learned (and mistakes I’ve made) along the way.


What Is Mead, Anyway?

Mead is simply fermented honey and water, often called “honey wine.” It’s one of the oldest alcoholic drinks in the world, dating back thousands of years. Unlike beer or grape wine, mead’s flavor depends entirely on the honey you use—whether it’s wildflower, clover, or orange blossom. The result can range from bone-dry to dessert-sweet, still or sparkling.

We’re aiming for a simple, drinkable mead here—no Viking helmets required.


The $20 Shopping List

Here’s the secret: You probably own half these items already. Let’s break it down:

  1. Honey (10–10–12):
    Look for a 2-pound jar (about 3 cups) of basic clover honey at discount stores. Avoid ultra-filtered or “gourmet” varieties—they’re overkill for a first batch.
  2. Water (Free):
    Tap water works if it’s chlorine-free. If your water tastes like a swimming pool, grab a $1 gallon of spring water.
  3. Yeast (1–1–2):
    Bread yeast is dirt cheap and works surprisingly well. I’ve used Fleischmann’s Active Dry with great results.
  4. Raisins or Orange ($1):
    These add nutrients for the yeast. A handful of raisins or a slice of orange peel does the trick.
  5. 1-Gallon Jug (Free–$3):
    Reuse a clean apple juice jug or buy a cheap glass jug from a brewing store.
  6. Balloon or Airlock (0–0–2):
    A punctured balloon works as a DIY airlock. If you’re feeling fancy, buy a plastic airlock.
  7. Sanitizer ($1):
    A tiny bottle of Star San or a splash of unscented bleach diluted in water.

Total: 14–14–20 (depending on what you already own).


Step 1: Sanitize Everything

I learned this the hard way: Mead fails when bacteria outcompete yeast. Scrub your jug, spoon, and funnel with hot soapy water, then rinse with sanitizer. No shortcuts here!


Step 2: Mix Honey and Water

Pour 3 cups of honey into your jug. Add lukewarm water until the jug is ¾ full. Stir like you’re trying to dissolve a bad day—honey sinks, so mix thoroughly.

Pro Tip: If your honey is crystallized, warm the jar in a bowl of hot water (don’t microwave it—you’ll kill delicate flavors).


Step 3: Add Yeast and Nutrients

Sprinkle in ½ teaspoon of yeast. Toss in 5–6 raisins or a thumb-sized piece of orange peel (no pith—it’s bitter). These keep the yeast happy and prevent “rotten egg” smells.


Step 4: Ferment

Stretch a balloon over the jug’s opening and poke 2–3 holes in it with a needle. Store the jug in a dark corner (65–75°F is ideal). Within 24 hours, the balloon will inflate like a proud chef—that’s CO2!

Wait 2–3 weeks. When the balloon deflates and bubbles slow down, fermentation is done.


Step 5: Bottle Your Mead

Siphon the mead into clean bottles, leaving the cloudy sediment behind. Old soda bottles work, but I save glass kombucha bottles for a classier vibe.


Common Mistakes (And How to Avoid Them)

  1. Impatience:
    My first batch tasted like rocket fuel because I bottled it after a week. Let it ferment fully!
  2. Using Chlorinated Water:
    Chlorine kills yeast. If your tap water smells chemical, stick to spring water.
  3. Skipping Sanitization:
    A moldy batch taught me this lesson. Sanitize everything that touches the mead.

Flavor Variations to Try Later

Once you’ve nailed the basics, experiment!

  • Metheglin: Add cinnamon sticks or cloves during fermentation.
  • Melomel: Toss in frozen berries or diced apples.
  • Sparkling Mead: Add ½ tsp sugar per bottle before sealing for fizz.

Final Thoughts

Mead-making is forgiving. Even my “failed” batches were drinkable (and made great gifts). The magic is in the simplicity—honey, water, time, and a dash of curiosity.

So grab that old juice jug and give it a try. For under $20, you’ll join a tradition older than written history—and maybe brew something that’ll make your friends say, “You made this?!”