Be Their Maple Syrup
A genie in a bottle
Maple syrup is one of those flavours for me that is uniquely identifiable. I don’t know, perhaps if I consulted a maple syrup expert (like a chocolate taster in their craft), they would tell me that maple syrup doesn’t have a “singular” taste, and is manyfold in its complexities and compounds…but what I can attest to is that it hits a Goldilocks’ spot for me. Yes, it’s sweet, very sweet, but somehow the depth of its character, the combination of the wisdom of the trees and finest outputs of the ‘master boilers’ at the Sugar Shacks, mellows its saccharinity with toffee, woodiness, Bourbon vanilla, and as I’ve read—a possible perception of umami based on the Mallard reaction of the cooking/evaporation process. In that way, chocolate and maple syrup would form a natural brotherhood!
But I didn’t mean to begin this article as an introduction to the organoleptic properties of maple syrup, what I want to focus on is the power of its ‘lustfulness’ and how, in a crowded, oversaturated marketplace, by applying the maple syrup philosophy, perhaps you can not only stand out, but become a desirable staple on the connoisseur’s or nostalgic’s shelf.
What of this lust then? In my case, and what sprouted this maple syrup concept for me, was a recent visit back to North America. European specialty—and commercial—markets have evolved significantly over the last 10-15 years to accommodate for the international palate. There was a time—not too long ago—that you could only find peanut butter within the major cities, at gimmicky US processed-food palaces slinging Pop-Tarts, Betty Crocker frosting tubs, and Smacks cereal. You can get about anything where I live (gosh, it’s wild to say this out loud and sit with the enormity of choice and materials at our disposition), yet maple syrup is still something—within Spain at least—that hasn’t become a highly diversified or available product. We may have 15 types of tomato sauce displayed prominently, but IF you stumble upon maple syrup while shopping, it will be one brand only, one grade as well (please go hog wild in the comments’ section if you have a preferred Grade—I’ve always been a tad befuddled by which to choose!). This means for me, that when I am back in my old stomping grounds, the one thing I must bring back with me is a bottle of maple syrup. I really should start bringing a gallon! So enamored and delighted am I to have it within my possession, that luggage fees seem legitimate for this local delicacy.
There you have it then. Your goal when building something, making things, is to become someone’s maple syrup. The staying power is awe-inspiring, as this infatuation transcends the dynamics and timelines of relationships, moves, even the subtle loss of taste from sickness or aging, because its gravitational pull eclipses all other pantry items (for me), it takes breakfasts into other realms—of past lived experiences, as well as generates the craving to share with future French toast trysts. This persuasiveness cannot be calculated. It doesn’t come from an advertisement or jingle, it’s the manifestation of what home feels like, and thus it’s a liquid time capsule of memories and a wellspring of wishes. Even with this great potential, it is savoured and measured, feeling ever more extravegant when it does pour forth to rewrite the outcome of the day(s) ahead and re-ground me to what fortune came before.
What is your maple syrup, foodstuff or not, scarce or prevalent—what drives you to this level of devotion?