Maple syrup, an alternate history

Iam not, by any means, an expert on maple syrup, especially in terms of collection or processing. But I will say I am worldclass at consuming it.

Also, I’m very curious about the origin of the things I love.

That’s why I think it might be interesting to question and theorize how maple syrup collection came to be.

My theory is that one of our primitive ancestors was just sitting under a maple tree in spring minding his own business, when an errant arrow hit the tree and lodged right over his head at an angle, thereby tapping it.

This caused him to gasp – as anyone would – and while his mouth was open a single drop of sap fell upon his tongue. It tasted better than the puddle water he normally drank.

So, he put a cup underneath the tree’s wound and collected a bunch and took it home to his mom. And his mom said, “It’s not bad but I prefer hot drinks…”

So, she put it in a container over a fire and went about her business. Then, after a while she remembered it. When she retrieved the container,

STEVE GALEA she saw that it was syrupy, thick, and actually very sweet.

Unfortunately, she did not have much of a sweet tooth, so she started to walk to the spring to dump it and clean out the container. But, as fate would have it, a cow and calf moose started chasing her, which forced her to run carelessly through the woods. That’s why she then collided with a young fellow who happened to be carrying a stack of pancakes. No one knows why, so don’t ask.

Now here’s where it gets a little farfetched. The moose stopped chasing her after feeling bad about the havoc it had wrought. But I digress.

The young fellow was indeed strange. In fact, he was the only one in the clan who liked pancakes just as they were, without a single topping. So, when he bumped into the woman who had spilled this tree syrup all over his pancakes, he was kind of disappointed.

“You’ve ruined my pancakes,” he said, probably. (I’m cleaning up this story for the kids.)

“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry, those bland pancakes are now sweet, sticky, and syrupy. And who would want that?”

She then rolled her eyes. This did not exactly endear her to him, but it did get him thinking, mostly about how he was going to clean that syrup off his plate. And, also if he could fake whiplash and get a primitive lawyer to take his case.

While he was contemplating all this, he ran into another friend. But this was not an ordinary friend. It was one of those friends who will eat anything on a dare. You know the type. We all have one.

And while these days, they are looked upon as a bit weird, back then, when they were still discovering what was edible, they were valued members of the group – especially when a new mushroom was discovered.

In any case, this guy ate the syrup covered pancakes and loved them. And, more importantly, he survived.

The rest is history. Soon, the clan made a point of shooting arrows into maple trees, collecting the sap, and boiling it. And the pancake guy started doing a pretty good business on Sunday mornings….

His friend – the real hero – was last heard saying, “Hemlock tea? Don’t mind if I do.”