Maple syrup fresh from the tin is pure Canadiana
Forget Tim Hortons, hockey and Niagara Falls; this sweet, sticky stuff is our treasure
Sometimes it’s a bit embarrassing that when it comes to national symbols, we Canadians tend to come up short. Think about it: The French have the Eiffel Tower, the Brits have the Queen, while Americans claim everything from apple pie to the Statue of Liberty. Sure, there’s our flag, which is kind of charming, for its lack of militarism and hopeful, ’60s graphics, though I have to admit I’ve never been a fan of the glaring red on white, which usually manages to come off as a rather harsh colour combination.
Niagara Falls is pretty impressive, of course, though the whole point now seems to be going to the casino. And then they had to go and sell off the Maid of the Mist to the Americans. At least we got the rights back to the Mounties, if only because the RCMP’s image may no longer be all that Disney-worthy.
It is just silly to think of the multinationally owned Tim Hortons as a Canadian brand, even though it might be named after a hockey legend. It is true that whether or not you enjoy Tim’s coffee, in some further-flung places across this great land you’re still pretty happy to run across one. Which brings us to “our” national game, a sport whose stars increasingly hail from around the globe, but whose fans for the most part are glaringly whiter than, say, those of the Raptors.
Thank goodness there’s now some hip Canadiana on offer from the likes of Toronto’s Red Canoe, Tuck Shop Trading and the Drake General Store, so that we residents can at least proclaim our country of origin with some style appropriate to the land we represent.
But what of a gift or souvenir of our fair land to bring to others?
Since butter tarts do not travel particularly well and ice wine gives everyone a headache, I tend to opt for real Canadian maple syrup. I like it because it is something that can truly be said to come from our terroir. Europeans, in particular, go crazy for it. And so they should — how magical is it to enjoy the actual elixir of a maple tree on your pancakes or in your morning oatmeal, instead of “table syrup”? Just like wine, its price is driven by the season’s yield, which of course is being affected by climate change, making it an everyday commodity that is also increasingly precious.
Although I appreciate the thought behind the new vogue for packaging maple syrups in chic flasks as if it were extra-virgin olive oil, I prefer the nostalgia of this old-school tin. Not only will it travel securely, once its lid’s removed and contents licked clean, the empty can would make a pretty votive or pencil jar.
Handy to have on hand in the pantry for a hearty holiday breakfast, it’s widely available at the grocery store, just as it was when I was little. Even then it looked to me just like Canada itself in a can — a lonely and quiet cabane amidst snowcovered bare trees, the sweetness of their essence so very promising. Karen von Hahn is a Toronto-based writer, trend observer and style commentator. Her new book, What Remains: Object Lessons in Love and Loss, is published by the House of Anansi Press. Contact her at kvh@karenvonhahn.com.