MAPLE MADNESS

Quebec, of course, is home to a large maple syrup industry.  Oh, how I bemoan all those decades when I thought Log Cabin was maple syrup.  What a revelation when I finally got hold of the real stuff.  My thanks to Costco and Trader Joe’s for making it relatively affordable.  Once you go 100% pure, you never go back.  The boyos, of course, have never known (at least at home) other than the real thing.  Michael even took his own bottle off to college and zealously hoarded it against his dorm mates when pancakes or waffles were on tap for breakfast.  I like it also over vanilla or coffee ice cream, and I put it in a variety of cooked things, like some pies.  After my cancer treatments, when all other sweet things had no taste at all for a long time, the syrup still came through.  But, I never have had an entire meal based on maple syrup.  Until now.

Our dinner destination the next night was the Erabliere le chemin du Roy, known locally simply as the “Sugar Shack,” a working maple syrup family farm that supplements their income by serving syrup-themed dinners.  We first got an explanation of tapping the tree, which they do by both the traditional spout-and-bucket method and by the more modern (and efficient) tube extraction.  In general, a tubing system consists of a storage tanks with a mainline feeding sap into it. The sap runs from the tree through a spile, and into the dropline, from there it goes into the lateral through a mainline connector, through the mainline and into the storage tank.  Gravity feed does the trick, but vacuum assists are also used.  At this farm, the collection season was over, so the tubing had been put away.

After the collection process, the sap is brought inside the boil house and placed in the first (farthest) bin and heated up; the juice flows from a tube near the top of that bin over to the next, where the process is repeated down the line, until only the pure syrup finally rises and flows out the top of the last and into the kegs.

Dinner was served in a large hall, and our group was the only one present throughout the meal, although another bus group arrived as we were finishing outside.  Now, you’ll notice the guy shoveling something in his mouth, seated across from Loni.  Caution:  in a “family-style” restaurant where common platters are passed around at each table, you do NOT want to be seated with this guy.  He’s a not-yet-retired cop from some burg on the outskirts of St. Louis.  He is totally immune from both embarrassment and table manners.  We had nine people at this table.  Woe betide the poor souls who were seated “downstream” from him in the passing-the-platter queue.  He took enough of everything to feed an army.  Remember the container of syrup in the picture above?  That was for the table to pour over our dessert pancakes.  The first three folks put about three tablespoons each on theirs;  the Mouth dumped somewhere between 1/3 and 1/2 of the entire pitcher on his, and then passed the dregs on to the next person without so much as a howdy-do.  His plate was awash in syrup, right up to the rim.  I’m surprised he didn’t ask for a straw.   The eagle-eyed waitress promptly brought us some more.  No other table needed a second pitcher.

Anyway, the meal was nothing fancy, just farmhouse-hearty fare that was quite good.  It wasn’t particularly photogenic, but here’s the menu:

French Canadian maple-pea soup :: Country bread and maple butter
Maple smoked ham :: Maple Meat Balls* :: Traditional "Québécois" maple meat pie
Potatoes  :: Baked beans  (both with maple flavoring)
Home-made pickles :: Coleslaw  (OK, neither of these had maple) 
Pancakes with maple syrup

All were tasty, and none were actually sweet, they just had various degrees of maple flavor.  But the most bizarre, and most surprising, was this:

Now, I love beers, but not sweet, malty types.  I prefer hoppy brews, like Dogfish Head, IPA’s, and that memorable Imperial rye-based beauty I had up in Washington.  So this I tried simply to say I had done it.  But, it was great!  Just a hint of maple flavor backed by a well-balanced hops-malt structure.  Very nice.

Dinner was accompanied by entertainment by one of the family, who played a nice fiddle, some wooden spoons (“clackers”), and a totally weird Pinocchio puppet which “danced” on the end of a wooden spatula.  He sort of sat on the spatula between his legs, “sproinging” the thing with one hand to make it vibrate while holding the puppet and it’s bouncing feet with the other.  Ohhkay.  We are in the back woods.  He was having a good time.

After dinner we went outside for another treat:  instant maple taffy.  While they were heating up the syrup and preparing the ice tray, we first loaded on this old wagon pulled by a Clydesdale and a Percheron for a ride through the maple forest.

A nice, slow pace to let dinner settle.  By the time we got back, they were preparing the maple taffy.  Pure syrup is heated on the stove, then it is poured in strips over a bed of ice.  You promptly put a wooden stick in one end of a strip, and roll the strip up onto the end of the stick.  Go for it, Mom!

Insert in mouth, and suck bliss.

The next group was just coming in, so it was time to get back on the bus and head back to the hotel.  By the time we got back, it was dark, but the temperature was quite mild so I took a stroll around a few blocks.  This café with outside tables was just across the square from the hotel.  On my way back, I heard a lot of singing and whistles and came across yet another student demonstration against the increases in college tuition and fees.  All very orderly.  I think they were having more fun than doing a serious protest.  There were virtually no onlookers except for a few of us tourists.

Back to the hotel and dreams of all things maple.  Mmmmmmm.