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Drip, drip, drip . . . It was late February. After a long, cold winter, it
was first day to hint that spring was on the way. Drip, drip, drip . . . It had been below freezing overnight, but by noon the
sun was warm. Drip, drip, drip . . . I took my then-4-year-old daughter, Ashley, outside
to enjoy the beautiful sunny day, the most extended outdoor excursion
we’d had since we’d built a snowman a few weeks before. Drip, drip, drip . . . We looked around to see where the drips were coming
from. It hadn’t rained the night before. The blue sky was completely
cloudless. Drip, drip, drip . . . Where were those
drips coming from? We could hear them all around us. Eventually they landed
on our arms. Before I could stop her, Ashley touched her tongue to a
droplet. “It’s kind of sweet!” she said. Of course — the sap was flowing. When we moved
into our old farmhouse, there were 22 sugar maples on our 2.5 acres. The
trees weren’t an unalloyed pleasure; there was little space on our
wooded lot for the garden we wanted. Even so, when fall turned the trees
into a canopy of shimmering gold and later, when more cardinals than we
could count perched on their snow-covered branches, we weren’t
complaining. Drip, drip, drip . . . Always eager to expose my children to new
experiences, I said to my daughter, “Remember when we went to Lincoln
Memorial Garden and saw them making syrup? Well, we can do the same thing
with our own trees. Let’s go there and buy some taps so we can make
our own.”
Little did I know what I’d let myself in for.
On that sunny day we purchased about three dozen taps (large trees can
support multiple taps) and set out to make our own syrup. We tapped the
trees, cleaned plastic gallon jugs to hang on the taps, and watched as the
sap dripped steadily into them. The next morning, all of the jugs were filled to
overflowing. “This is great!” I thought. I knew that it takes
about 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup. “We’ll
have enough syrup to last us all year.” We dumped the slightly sweet
watery liquid into big pots, put the jugs back on the taps, and brought the
pots into the kitchen to boil down. By midafternoon, the sap was nowhere
near becoming syrup, and when I looked outside I could see that the jugs
were once again filled to overflowing.
I’d opened a Pandora’s box. Ashley and
our two older children were initially thrilled to help bring in the sap,
but their enthusiasm quickly faded as, day after day, they had to lug in
jug after jug. Our old farmhouse kitchen wasn’t up to the task,
either. There wasn’t an exhaust fan over the stove, and the syrup
literally boiled the finish off the old kitchen cabinets. We didn’t
have any problems with lack of humidity, though.
I think we ended up with about five gallons of syrup
that first year. All of our friends — and even some folks we
didn’t know all that well — benefited. We never again made maple syrup on quite that scale,
and over the years age and disease have decimated the sugar maples on our
property. Every spring, however, I still listen for that drip, drip, drip . . . because
it’s a sure sign that spring is on its way. Maybe this year
I’ll just tap one tree, for old times’ sake.
ROASTED PORK LOIN WITH
MUSTARD-MAPLE GLAZE
3 to 4 pounds boneless pork loin, trimmed of excess
fat 2 cups buttermilk One large white onion, thinly sliced or diced 2 tablespoons kosher or sea salt 3/4 cup plus 1/2 cup pure maple syrup, divided One bunch fresh sage leaves or rosemary, thyme, or marjoram
Freshly ground pepper 1 tablespoon bacon fat or vegetable oil 1/2 cup stone-ground or Dijon mustard
Two days before you plan to serve the pork, combine
the buttermilk, onion, salt, 3/4 cup maple syrup, and sage or other herbs
in a large resealable plastic bag. Squish the bag with your hands to
dissolve the salt and combine the syrup and buttermilk. Add the pork loin
and seal the bag, removing as much air as possible. Refrigerate for two
days, turning the bag occasionally. Remove the bag from the refrigerator
three hours before you plan to start cooking the pork to allow the meat to
come to room temperature. Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Heat the bacon
fat in a large ovenproof skillet and swirl it to coat the bottom of the
pan, then pour off the excess. Drain the marinade from the meat and pat the
meat dry with paper towels, then sprinkle it liberally with freshly ground
pepper. Brown the meat on all sides in the skillet over moderately high
heat, then put the meat, uncovered, in the oven. After 45 minutes, combine
the remaining 1/2 cup of maple syrup and the mustard. Brush the meat with
some of the mixture. Repeat every 15 minutes until the mixture is used up,
then continue to baste with the pan juices. Roast until a thermometer
inserted halfway into the thickest part of the meat registers 150 degrees.
Total cooking time will be between one-and-a-half and two hours. Let the
roast stand for 15 minutes, then slice thinly and serve with the pan
juices. Serves six to eight. Leftovers make great sandwiches.
Send questions and comments to Julianne Glatz at
realcuisine@insightbb.com.
This article appears in Feb 8-14, 2007.
