I don't know what the deal is but last year my syrup was lousy. I had lots of it and felt my methods were, maybe short of elegant, but rustic and generally clean. Everything was the same as I have always done, but it tasted "off".
Admittedly, it was a strange year, not consistent with weather patterns of the past, so I figured the trees were unhappy, or disgruntled, maybe despondent, something had spewed forth this nonsense. I will say this, there was concern that the big maple up front had its greedy roots in the sewer line thinking that it could up its nutrient contend by latching on to my left overs----if you know what I mean. Maybe, for some reason, that was imparting a unpleasant taste--certainly an unpleasant thought. But from a biological standpoint that didn't really seem to stand. Trees have discretion and don't just take in solids. Do they? Why, it could have been in an area where there were lots of cattle. Would that make a difference, make it taste like beef, or other stuff. I put manure on the garden and the vegetables are great, not cowy.
Point is, it was not good, not robust and classic in taste, maybe suitable for making maple syrup pie (which we did) but not something one would flow over a nice stack of pan cakes and just slurp up every molecule.
So this year I was a touch reluctant to go forth, but out of habit set out the tap line in all the trees in the yard and few across the street in the towns land. Like last year the weather was all over the place. The sap ran one day in early March, then it dropped to 10 degrees and went back to winter adding a foot of snow. All my stored sap froze solid in the big container. A week later the flow was on and for two days I packed in my quota needed for my gallon of syrup.
This year I didn't set up at my brothers due to gas cost. Even going 15 miles one way to pick up collection added more cost than the syrup would be worth even at $30 a gallon. So I plied my craft right here in town, which only makes sense anyway.
One of the things different I did was to eliminate the sap from the big maple up front, the one that was suspect of being a sewer sucker. I noticed the sap in that tree, while sweet, did appear a touch off in odor. Maybe there is squirrel that expresses his did like for me by doing unmentionable things in the bucket.
As the boiling started, I noticed that the old familiar kiss of maple was there and the taste of the concentrated sap was tasting mighty fine indeed. At the end of the final boil on the stove, there was no question, it was a prime year and that next morning my pan cakes were floating in new made syrup. The thrill is back.
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