Quebec’s Sweet Treat
By “Awake!” correspondent in Canada
IT’S a mild, sunny morning in early spring as we tramp along an old logging trail. Under our feet the earth is still partially frozen and covered with patches of snow. Along the way to the cabane à sucre (sugarhouse), we notice numerous shining tin buckets, loaded with maple sap, dangling against the gray bark of stately trees. It isn’t long before we see smoke and steam ascending through the leafless branches. The air becomes filled with the unforgettable aroma of maple syrup mixed with that of burning wood, and our mouths water.
As we approach the sugarhouse, we are greeted by Henri, whose swarthy face is covered with one big smile. “You’re just in time,” Henri tells us. “Come with me as I bring in another load of maple sap,” he says. “Then I’ll have you savor a fresh batch of new maple syrup and other sweets.”
Collecting the Sap
The trail takes us farther into the sugar bush where the dignified stature of the bare maples impresses us. Why, some are as tall as 130 feet (40 m) with a diameter of 5 feet (1.5 m)! Henri, noting our gaze at the trees, says: “Although there are more than a hundred species of maple trees growing in North America, China, and Japan, maple syrup is made almost exclusively in the eastern part of the United States and Canada. Of the 13 species in North America, only 3 give superior quality syrup.”
We notice that certain maples have several buckets hanging on them, while others have none at all. We ask Henri why. “One tap is made for every eight inches (20 cm) in diameter,” he says, directing our attention to the size of the trees. “Those under eight inches in diameter are not tapped on this farm.”
“To collect the sap,” he continues, “I drill small holes a few feet above the base of the trunk, about one or two inches (3-5 cm) deep. Then I insert plastic spouts in the holes to allow the sap to drip into the buckets.”
“Do the bored holes damage the trees?” we ask. “Not if they’re tapped properly,” he quickly responds. “Most sugar makers are very conscious of taking good care of their groves, because it takes from 35 to 40 years before the maple can be tapped. After that, with proper care, the maple can produce sap for over a hundred years.”
As we arrive at a nearby brook, Henri hands us a large pail and snowshoes, and says: “Help me empty the sap from the buckets hanging on those trees into these large containers I have fastened to the sleighs behind my tractor.”
We are amazed! Henri moves swiftly and quietly over the soft spring snow, collecting the sap. But as we endeavor to keep up with him, we noisily stumble along, trying not to trip. It’s not easy to walk with a contraption that looks like a tennis racket strapped to each of your feet.
With buckets filled to the brim with what looks like water, we anxiously taste it to see how sweet it is. To our surprise, it is bland. Noticing our disappointed expressions, Henri chuckles: “The sap is 97.5 percent water and only 2.5 percent sugar and minerals.”
“What causes the sap to flow?”
“The weather,” Henri begins his answer. “For the sap to start running, nights must be below freezing, followed by warm and sunny days with temperatures from 40 to 45 degrees Fahrenheit (4-7° C.). This unique, short time period occurs anywhere between the last week of February and the middle or end of April. Storms, direction and temperature of winds, and frost in the ground are also major factors controlling yield.”
Background of Syrup Making
As we relax in the warm sunshine with birds chirping in the background, we ask Henri how and when maple-syrup making got started. “The American Indians discovered how to use maple syrup,” he tells us, “just as they did sweet potatoes and corn.”
Now he gives us a little history lesson. “Early French and English explorers wrote of the ‘sweet water’ that the Indians drew from trees and heated to make syrup. The Indians used a tomahawk to slash a ‘V’ in the trunk of the maple,” he says gesturing with his hand in a slashing motion, “and then they collected the sap in bark or wood containers and boiled it down in clay pots. Though crude by today’s standards, that procedure for making syrup has really not changed over the years.”
Now, sounding more like a history professor than a sugar maker, Henri continues: “The sugar industry in Quebec started around 1705, with the first official sugar maker. Now it is an important industry bringing in between $30 million and $37 million (Canadian) yearly to its 9,000 producers in Quebec.”
Our curiosity stirred, we ask: “How much of the world’s maple sugar comes from Quebec?”
Henri pauses in thought before responding. “Quebec is responsible for about 90 percent of the total Canadian production and more than 70 percent of the world’s. The rest is supplied by the northeastern states, notably Vermont.”
Return to the Sugarhouse
It’s time to return to the sugarhouse. On our arrival, the sap we collected is emptied into a large metal storage tank. Now we are ready to witness the most important part of sugaring—boiling the sap into syrup.
Entering the cabin, we see a rectangular, shallow pan called an evaporator. It occupies most of the room. Underneath the pan sits the furnace, its roaring wood fire being stoked by one of the helpers. The sap enters the evaporator, and as it flows through the length of the pan, the water slowly evaporates and the sugar becomes concentrated.
“How much sap is needed to make syrup?” we wonder out loud.
Henri’s answer surprises us. “It takes as much as 40 gallons (150 L) of sap to make just one gallon (4 L) of syrup!”
“How does it turn into syrup?” is our next question.
“When the temperature of the sap reaches 219 degrees Fahrenheit (104° C.), it becomes maple syrup containing 66 percent sugar. The syrup is then drawn off, filtered, and canned while still hot.”
“Moreover,” he continues in a cautious tone, “it must be canned at a proper temperature: not hot enough, it spoils; too hot, the syrup crystallizes. The finished product, though, can be stored for years. However, once a container is opened, the syrup must be refrigerated to prevent spoiling.”
Another question pops out: “What type of syrup is the best?”
“Though many prefer a darker, stronger syrup, the lighter-colored variety is considered to be the best quality. This delicate-tasting type is rated ‘fancy’ or ‘extra clear.’ The darker the color, the lower the value. Consequently, the dark, or ‘commercial,’ syrup is used mainly for sugar and candy.”
We are puzzled. Why different colors? “Several factors are involved,” Henri patiently explains. “The finest sap comes from the early flow. If it stays in the evaporator too long, it darkens; thus, the speed, skill, and technique of the sugar maker is important. Occasionally, bacteria, which are destroyed by boiling, will also darken the syrup.”
Tasting Syrup Treats
Now comes the delightful part of sugar making—tasting! Henri heats some of the syrup to 240 degrees Fahrenheit (116° C.). Next he pours it onto some clean, hard-packed snow. Almost immediately it hardens to a taffylike consistency. “Roll it up with those wooden spatulas and lick it like a lollipop,” Henri instructs. We are also tempted with creamy maple butter and soft maple sugar, which are made at a slightly lower temperature.
We begin dreaming of other ways to enjoy maple syrup. Syrup by itself is delightful with crepes, waffles, and pancakes. It can also be used on fruits, yogurt, ice cream, and baked beans, and as a glaze on ham and chicken. Many enjoy eggs lightly poached in maple syrup. “Most sugar farmers,” says Henri, “put syrup on just about everything! And once the sap starts running, we have sugaring-off meals and parties, with fiddle and accordion music accompanying our dancing, sipping, and sapping.”
“After many years of making syrup, I am still impressed by God’s provision of the beautiful maple,” Henri says. “To me the maple’s versatility in furnishing shade in summer, high quality lumber, and especially delightful sweet treats is evidence of Jehovah God’s wisdom and generosity.”
[Blurb on page 23]
“The American Indians discovered how to use maple syrup, just as they did sweet potatoes and corn”
[Blurb on page 24]
“It takes as much as 40 gallons of sap to make just one gallon of syrup!”