My local hair stylist called this a “dumb winter,” and I must agree! We had little snow — virtually no sledding, show shoeing, ice skating, or cross-country skiing — and the maple sugaring thaw has been crazy. For the sap to run, below-freezing nights and above-freezing days are needed, typical spring weather, but we had a high in the 20s last weekend, and several nights this past week barely made it down to 40 degrees. What’s a farmer to do? Be patient, there are plenty of other projects to be tended to around the farm. Be philosophical — some seasons will be better than others, you win some/you lose some, a stitch in time saves nine (well… not that one). And listen for the “ting, ting” of sap dripping into a pail.
We just barely made it to freezing last night, but it was cold enough in the beautiful sugarbush down in the lowland by the Cold River. Today was sunny and in the 50s, and the sap ran. Oh boy, did it run! We collected 450 gallons from that sugarbush (think of a field studded with graceful maple trees), and Steve and company are likely to be boiling into the wee hours.
I got the call from Diane at about ten o’oclock this morning, pulled on my rubber boots and grabbed my work gloves, trotted down the trail through the woods to her house, and hopped in the Jeep for the short drive. Once at the sugarbush, where workers were already collecting (and by “workers,” I mean family!), we took buckets out of the truck and went to it.
Each metal bucket hanging from a tree had to be emptied into a collecting bucket and brought to the truck to be poured into the big collecting tank. Some trees are big enough for two buckets. Eventually they’ll be “retired,” but in their prime, they’re gushers. There was one by our house that was dubbed the “Horn O’Plenty” (get it? Horn?), but it had to come down because it was shading our solar panels. I felt guilty about it until today, when I was reminded that there are a lot of maple trees in New Hampshire!
Some syrup producers in the area use plastic tubing that runs from trees into collecting tanks, eliminating the hand work (and saving backs!). That’s how the mammoth commercial operations in Quebec do it, but we like to do it the old fashioned way. Call ours a “boutique” syrup 🙂 Anyway, there’s a lot to be said for spending time outdoors, sipping sap right from the bucket, sloshing sap on your clothes (well, maybe not that one), and knowing exactly where your syrup came from.
Once the truck makes it back to the farm (through a lot of mud), the tank on the truck will be emptied into a big shiny stainless steel holding tank at the sugar house. There are trees around the farm that are also tapped, and that sap will join the party, too. To turn the sap into syrup, it has to be boiled to take out water and leave maple lusciousness. (It can take 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup. Yipes!) Steve will continually feed a woodbox which heats the evaporator. Sap snakes it way through the channels on top and steam billows out the vented roof. (The evaporator reminds me of those brownie pans that are marketed to people who love the edge pieces. Do you know what I mean? Crazy, really. The middle pieces are the best.)
The photo at the top of this post is of the sugar house during a boil. (Click here for a short video; you’ll also see Randy Brown’s sweet antique tractor featured in the “Mud Season & Robert Frost” post.) When the consistency is just right, Steve (or Diane) will pour some syrup into a little glass cup, and evaluate the sample to determine if the batch is anywhere from light to very dark. (Yay, very dark! More flavor!)
Last year the USDA did away with the “A” and “B” designations. The problem was that giving a syrup a “B” grade (the darker batches) was stigmatizing. After all, who but the most discerning maple syrup connoisseurs would choose a B over an A? (You won’t get into an Ivy League college with B’s!) Now, all syrup bound for retail sale will be grade A (is that like every child on the t-ball team getting a trophy?), and the delineations will be descriptive, such as “golden color and delicate taste,” or “dark color and robust taste.” If you ask me, the delicate syrup will get bullied on the playground.
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