Is it any wonder that Canadians are passionate about maple syrup? Not only is it the perfect complement to many foods, it’s a reminder of our past, of family and of our connection to nature. Even the maple leaf itself has come to symbolize Canada. The Algonquins named maple syrup sinzibuckwud, meaning ‘drawn from wood,’ and taught the early settlers how to make an incision in the maple’s bark, insert a reed, collect the sweet, clear liquid in birchbark buckets, and boil it down. By the 1850s, farmers were using metal spiles and buckets, and using horses to haul barrels of sap to sugar shacks for processing. In some areas, maple syrup was the only available sugar, and was called ‘country sugar.’
When nights are still cold, but the days begin to warm, a maple tree’s starch converts to sugar and mixes with water that’s been absorbed through its roots. And so, in late winter or early spring, when sap begins to flow in the maple trees of Eastern Canada, we flock to sugar shacks. It’s time for sugaring off.
Quebec is the world’s largest producer of maple syrup, with Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Ontario and Prince Edward Island contributing smaller amounts. In the rustic cabanes à sucre, annual festivals celebrate this liquid gold with hay rides, tapping demonstrations, stacks of pancakes and the iconic tire sur neige or maple taffy pull—hot syrup poured on snow, twirled onto sticks and then eaten as it cools—all drawing in the crowds.
Far less expensive, of course, is imitation maple syrup, which the Québécois refer to as sirop de poteau—syrup from telephone poles! Those who have tasted the real thing know that there is no comparison between an artificial product made with flavouring and high-fructose corn syrup, and a liquid that is the result of snow and sun, a tree’s response to spring, and the painstaking care taken to render 40 litres of sap into a litre of syrup. Totally pure, its subtle sweetness is redolent of the sound of running water, the smell of wet bark, and the cries of red-winged blackbirds, returning to the north country.
Beth Powning is the author of Edge Seasons and The Hatbox Letters, from Vintage Canada.
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