If the only thing soda was good for was being a sugar delivery system, we wouldn’t have so many types of it, nor would we have such strong allegiances to particular brands. Sure, the bottled stuff might be a mess of artificial flavorings and high-fructose corn syrup, but homemade soda is a different beast altogether.

Its brilliance is in its simplicity; at its core, it’s just sweetened carbonated water — a bubbly infrastructure supporting singular flavors. And what flavor is more deserving of that treatment than vanilla?

Cream soda is vanilla soda, though it contains no cream, and most don’t contain any actual vanilla. This is understandable, because the real stuff is so rare that all the vanilla farmers in the world can barely put a dent in the demand. In fact, less than 1 percent of all vanilla flavoring comes from actual vanilla beans — a fact that’s not remotely shocking once you learn all it takes to bring a single pod into this crazy world.

It all begins with orchids, which are well known for being so fussy you almost wonder why gardeners put up with any of their nonsense at all. I, personally, have killed plants just by looking at them the wrong way, and yet centuries ago, the Indigenous peoples of Mesoamerica realized there was something ethereally special about this finicky flowering vine. When the Europeans arrived, they attempted to bring the plant back home to cultivate alongside tomatoes, peppers, potatoes and all the other New World crops that would in time come to define the Old World cuisine.

Alas, vanilla refused to cooperate, wilting and dying with every attempt. Still, the aroma and flavor were so intoxicating, the Europeans never gave up hope — and never stopped trying. It took almost three centuries of failed attempts before an enslaved child on the French-colonized island of Bourbon (now Réunion) finally cracked the code.

Farmers had already figured out that vanilla vines refused to grow outside a zone located between 25 degrees north and south of the equator, and that it takes at least three years before they even consider producing flowers, which bloom for a single day, and then — if all went well — would spend several months gradually transforming into vanilla beans. But things never went well for the aspiring vanilla tamers, whose agricultural aspirations always ended up with defiant vines and dead flowers.

The problem was pollination. In keeping with its vexatious nature, the vanilla orchid’s anatomy had evolved so that it could be pollinated in most areas only by bees of the Euglossini tribe — commonly known as orchid bees — which can be found only in tropical forests from Mexico to Brazil. Then, in 1841, 12-year-old Edmond Albius discovered that it was possible to pollinate the flowers by hand with a tiny stick, which finally made it possible to grow vanilla beans in temperate zones around the world. And this is still how practically every single vanilla orchid in the world is pollinated, from Madagascar to Tahiti and, yes, even Mexico. (While some New World vanilla is still pollinated by wild bees, deforestation and climate change are threatening the survival of the species.)

Albius’ discovery made commercial vanilla cultivation possible — but it didn’t make it easy. Orchids are fragile, so hand pollination must be done delicately but also as quickly as possible. Though the flowers bloom for up to 24 hours, they’re fully open to the possibility of pollination only for those first six hours. Miss that window, and you’ve got a whole year to work on your tiny stick skills before you get another shot.

If the humidity, temperatures, rainfall and host of other agricultural variables choose to cooperate, all that tedious labor should result in a crop of vanilla beans in six to 10 months. Once ready for harvest, each bean is gently plucked by hand, as vanilla’s signature fragility makes any sort of mechanical harvesting impossible. The beans then spend several weeks drying beneath the hot sun during the day and “sweating” under a layer of blankets at night. Finally, after several years of hot, sweaty, manual labor, the vanilla makes it to market, where its name has become a synonym for “plain” and “boring.” Honestly, between that and the bees, part of me wonders if we even deserve vanilla.

Because of the (deserved) scarcity, the majority of the world’s vanilla flavor comes not from beans, but from either chemically synthesized petroleum or natural sources such as wood pulp, straw or tar. But even though it’s possible to extract vanillin molecules from non-vanilla sources, it’s not possible to match the full magic of the actual vanilla bean, which contains more than 250 other flavor compounds the petrochemical industry can’t deliver.

When something is this precious, it practically feels like sacrilege to bury it under any other ingredients, which is what makes homemade cream soda so enticing. With little in the way of distraction besides sugar and the barest touch of honey, vanilla gets to be the prima donna it was always destined — and deserves — to be.

Cream Soda

1 serving (makes 1 drink plus 2 cups syrup, enough for 32 servings)

Total time: 15 mins, plus chilling time for the syrup

Though the name suggests a dairy-based drink, cream soda is vanilla-flavored, with nary a drop of dairy in sight, and is one of the few sodas worth making at home. As good as bottled cream soda can be, it can’t compare to one made with whole, high-quality vanilla beans.

Make ahead: The vanilla-honey syrup needs to be prepared and thoroughly chilled for at least 1 hour before use.

Storage: Refrigerate the syrup for up to 1 month.

Ingredients

For the vanilla-honey syrup

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1/4 cup honey

1 1/4 cups water, divided

1/2 vanilla bean, split and seeds scraped

For the cream soda

2 tablespoons vanilla-honey syrup, plus more to taste

Carbonated water, such as seltzer or club soda

Steps

Make the vanilla-honey syrup: In a small (2-quart) nonreactive saucepan over medium-high heat, combine the sugar, honey and 1/2 cup of the water, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the sugar and honey dissolve and the mixture turns a light, golden caramel color, 5 to 8 minutes.

Remove the pan from the heat, add the remaining 1 cup of water, then stir in the vanilla bean and scraped-out seeds. Return to medium-high heat and bring to a simmer, then remove from the heat, cover and set aside to cool completely. You should have 2 cups of syrup.

Remove the vanilla bean (rinse it and save it for another use, see Notes), then transfer the syrup to a 2-cup (500-milliliter) bottle or other resealable container, and refrigerate until needed.

Make the cream soda: Add the vanilla-honey syrup to a 12-ounce glass. Fill the glass with ice, top with carbonated water and gently stir to combine. Taste, add more syrup, if desired, and serve immediately.

Notes: Use the spent and dried vanilla bean to make vanilla-scented sugar by adding it to a container of granulated sugar.

Nutrition per serving (1 drink): 51 calories, 13g carbohydrates, 0mg cholesterol, 0g fat, 0g fiber, 0g protein, 0g saturated fat, 0mg sodium, 13g sugar

This analysis is an estimate based on available ingredients and this preparation. It should not substitute for a dietitian’s or nutritionist’s advice.

From food writer Allison Robicelli.