I ATE GRANDPA, AND MY SCIATICA VANISHED: The Sticky History of Medicinal Cannibalism (or "Honey, I Preserved The Kids!")

I ATE GRANDPA, AND MY SCIATICA VANISHED: The Sticky History of Medicinal Cannibalism (or “Honey, I Preserved the Kids!”)

Ever wonder what happens when honey, human corpses, and 17th-century medicine collide? Spoiler: it’s sticky, it’s horrifying, and it might just cure your gout. (But probably not.) #MindOfMarlar

Listen to “I ATE GRANDPA, AND MY SCIATICA VANISHED! #MindOfMarlar” on Spreaker.

Throughout history, humankind has searched high and low for miracle cures: rare herbs, sacred springs, leeches with a medical degree, and, of course, Grandma. As in: eating her. Not all at once. Usually in powdered form. With a side of honey.

Welcome to the gooey, gristly, and absolutely bonkers world of medicinal cannibalism—a time when your cough syrup may have once had a face.

PART ONE: GRANDPA’S FINAL WISH WAS TO BE SPREAD ON TOAST

Let’s kick things off with a culinary horror so niche it could only have happened in 16th-century China: mellification. No, it’s not a fancy term for turning into a jellybean – that would be jellification. Mellification is the noble and definitely-not-insane act of turning yourself into a human Bit O’Honey candy bar—for medicine.

Here’s how it worked. An elderly man, presumably tired of bingo and ready to contribute to the family in a “medical confection” kind of way, would decide to become medicine. Not make medicine—become medicine.

Step 1: He stopped eating food and switched to a 100% honey diet.

Step 2: He bathed in honey, which seems fun until you remember bees exist.

Step 3: His bodily fluids turned to syrup. His sweat? Honey. His pee? Honey. His poop? Honey (though hopefully no one tested that part).

Step 4: He died. Because shockingly, an all-honey diet is not sustainable for human life.

Step 5: His corpse was entombed in a stone coffin filled with—you guessed it—more honey.

Step 6: Wait a century. Boom: You’ve got yourself a Mellified Man—a human Charleston Chew you could gnaw on if your leg hurt.

You could buy pieces of this human honey blob at your local apothecary, like a really dark version of a farmer’s market. Imagine walking up to the booth like, “Hey, I’ll take some pickled radishes, a bottle of kombucha, and a chunk of Grandpa Steve. My gout’s acting up again.”

SCIENCE: IT’S STICKY, OKAY?

Now you may be asking, “Why honey?” Great question, hypothetical person who has never used a pantry. Honey doesn’t spoil. Ever. Archaeologists once opened a 4,300-year-old tomb in the country of Georgia and found perfectly preserved berries that still smelled fruity and delicious. This means prehistoric people were better at food preservation than your Aunt Diane with six freezers full of expired chicken nuggets.

These ancient Georgians also embalmed everything in honey: berries, nuts, baskets, textiles, and probably Steve from accounting. Researchers were stunned. They expected to find some bones and maybe a clay pot, not an entire historical charcuterie board.

The takeaway? Honey is great. Unless you’re bathing in it until your kidneys give out. Then it’s still great—just not for you.

PART TWO: THE GLOBAL CANNIBALISM BONANZA NOBODY ASKED FOR

While the Chinese were turning old men into syrupy meatloaf, Europe was like, “That’s adorable. We eat all the parts.” That’s right—Europe was going full-on nose-to-toes with corpse medicine. If you had a headache, you’d snort powdered skull. If your leg hurt, you’d rub it with human fat. If you had epilepsy, you might try moss that grew on skulls, powdered hair, or in extreme cases, just straight-up chug some blood.

And we’re not talking metaphorical blood, like in a vampire romance novel. We’re talking “show up at an execution with your Stanley tumbler and ask the hangman for a pour.”

King Charles II of England had his own custom blend called “King’s Drops,” made from powdered skulls and booze. When he died, his doctors tried everything, including the skull cocktail and probably a quick game of charades to distract Death. Spoiler: it didn’t work. He still died.

Meanwhile, average people were trying whatever body parts they could afford. If you were rich, you got the good stuff: Egyptian mummy jerky, thighbone tinctures, or powdered brain mixed with chocolate—because if you’re gonna eat Timmy, he better taste like dessert. If you were poor, you stood near the gallows, held out a cup, and hoped the condemned bled enough to fill it.

And the executioner? He was the unofficial medieval CVS pharmacist. Think Dr. Fauci, but with more axes and even fewer scruples.

PART THREE: CORPSE COOKING TIPS FOR THE MEDICALLY DERANGED

Doctors didn’t just find corpses—they made them. German physicians had actual recipes for corpse cures. Here’s one:

Get a redheaded man who died violently. (Apparently gingers preserve better. Science!)
Let him sunbathe under the moon (??).
Chop him up, marinate him in booze, and hang-dry the pieces like a disturbing salami.
Voila! Medicinal jerky.

As a redhead myself I’m kinda regretting giving you that recipe now.

This was considered normal. If you walked into a 17th-century apothecary and asked, “Do you have anything for arthritis?” the response was likely, “Sure, how about a foot? Or we can blow corpse poop into your eyes—dealer’s choice!”

And yes, blood marmalade was a thing. It’s like regular marmalade, but instead of oranges, it’s made of guilt and probable hepatitis.

HYPOCRISY ALERT: “CANNIBALISM IS BARBARIC, UNLESS IT’S FOR MY RHEUMATISM”

You might be thinking, “Wait a second—didn’t Europeans judge other cultures for cannibalism?” Yes. Yes, they did. While Catholics and Protestants were screaming at each other over whether wine magically turned into Jesus’s blood, both sides were quietly rubbing human fat into their eczema.

Meanwhile, they were accusing Indigenous peoples of “savage” behavior for engaging in rituals involving their dead—even though Europe was busy making corpse smoothies and selling them in powdered form next to the oregano.

PART FOUR: MODERN MEDICINE (NOW WITH 100% LESS HUMAN FAT)

Eventually, as science improved and forks became more popular than skull spoons, corpse medicine fell out of fashion. But it didn’t vanish overnight. As late as the 1800s, people were still rubbing coffin water on their warts and feeding kids molasses mixed with powdered skull. (Spoiler: It did not help.)

Today, we don’t eat people—at least not without consequences and several Netflix documentaries. But we do harvest blood, organs, and tissue in modern medicine. The difference? Well, now we ask first. Mostly.

And yet, a global black market still exists for stolen body parts. So if mellification makes a comeback, you can bet someone on Etsy is gonna start selling artisanal “Grandpa Butter” in cute little jars with handwritten labels. “Locally sourced. 100 years aged. May cure gout.”

FINAL THOUGHT: LET’S NOT DO THIS AGAIN

So, what have we learned?

Honey is a fantastic preservative, but a terrible retirement plan.
Eating powdered skulls doesn’t cure headaches, it just adds irony.
If your family doctor recommends corpse marmalade, get a second opinion.
History is full of people doing unthinkable things for a slightly better Tuesday.

The story of mellified men and corpse medicine proves one thing: people will eat literally anything if they think it might cure gas. From sugar-glazed saints to blood-based breakfast spreads, the human body has been through some stuff. And sometimes, it’s been through someone else’s stuff… their digestive tract.

So the next time you take a multivitamin and gag a little? Just be grateful it doesn’t contain Fred.