327 N Tower Ave

Set in the heart of downtown Centralia, our shop lives inside a space that’s seen years of change, conversation, and community.

The building at 327 North Tower Avenue holds more than just shelves and jars—it carries a sense of place. Light comes in soft through the front windows, the street moves steadily outside, and inside, things slow down just enough to notice.

This is where our honey lives.
And where we get to share it.

Storefront with a large clock above the entrance, decorated with ornate carvings and a flower motif; a sign reads "HUB CITY HONEY"; potted plants and black crates are outside; trees and a street are in the background.

A Shop with a Story

Hub City Honey Company began with Beau and Jennah, who built the shop with care, curiosity, and a deep respect for the craft of beekeeping.

What they created wasn’t just a store—it was a place where people could taste, ask questions, and learn something new.

Today, that work continues with Brandon and Ernesto.

We stepped into the shop not to change what it is, but to carry it forward—keeping what matters, growing where it feels right, and staying rooted in the same spirit it was built on.

How We Choose Our Honey

We don’t look for “perfect” honey—we look for honest honey.

That means working with beekeepers who care for their hives, harvest with intention, and allow each batch to reflect where it came from.

Some of our honey is local, gathered from familiar landscapes here in the Pacific Northwest.
Some comes from other regions where specific plants and conditions create something unique.

What matters to us is simple:

  • The bees are cared for

  • The honey is handled gently

  • The flavor reflects its source

We’re less interested in uniformity, and more interested in character.

Who We Are

  • My path into this work hasn’t been linear. It’s been shaped by curiosity, hands-on learning, and a willingness to try things, fail at them, and try again.

    These days, that looks like tending bees, working the land, running the shop, and building something that feels real.

    I am not trying to do things perfectly—I’m trying to do them honestly.
    And to create a space where people can slow down, ask questions, and connect with something a little more grounded.

  • Everything we do starts with a few simple ideas.

    Care comes first.
    For the bees, the land, and the people behind the work.

    Source matters.
    We look for honey that reflects where it came from—whether it’s local or from a region where something special grows.

    Keep it close to natural.
    Less processing, less interference—more of what makes honey what it is.

    Let things be a little different.
    We’re not chasing uniformity. We’re interested in variation, character, and the small differences that make each jar unique.

  • Our roots in beekeeping started in a very different place.

    In a big city, doing hive removals—cut-outs from walls, ceilings, and unexpected spaces. It was hands-on, unpredictable work, and it taught us early that bees don’t exist on our terms—we step into theirs.

    From there, we spent time in Florida, keeping bees more traditionally, learning the rhythms of the seasons, the challenges, and the quiet consistency it takes to care for a hive over time.

    Now, we’re here in the Pacific Northwest—building something that brings it all together.

    Bees, farming, and a slower kind of work that feels more connected to place.

    It’s still evolving.
    It probably always will be.

    But that’s part of why we’re here.

A person wearing a checkered shirt, beige pants, gloves, and a beekeeping veil kneeling next to a beehive in a green, wooded area with tall grass and trees.

Come By, Stay Awhile

If you’re nearby, stop in. Taste something new, ask a question, or just take a look around. We’re always happy to share what we know—and just as happy to learn alongside you.