With the turn of a bit | and a boy in embrace,
They take mallet in hand | to pound spiles into place.
The quick lick of a drip| puts a smile on his face,
As the trees fill the pails | in a slow, patient pace.
It was a good year for a sap run. Unfortunately, I have been too busy to full enjoy it or cook all of the sap that I could have… But I did manage to get almost 30 taps in and ended with just under a gallon of syrup. I could have cooked at least three times that amount with the taps I had in, but time didn’t permit more than one day of cooking, and I wept as gallons of spoiled sap were later dumped.
My junior had a great time tapping trees. From turning the bit and brace, to pounding in the century-old heirloom spiles now being used by the fifth generation. I recall licking the sap drips as my grandparents cooked sap on the north shore of Mille Lacs. As far as I know, my grandpa’s dad started the Hall family tradition when he came to Minnesota from Indiana, though it’s possible syrup stretches back further into the family history.
When cooking at my grandparents, they would use an old sorghum pan my great-grandfather had purchased for $11 from a Montgomery Ward catalog. It’s got leaks and patches and many nuances, so it’s probably best that heirloom is retired.
There isn’t a lot else to do outdoors in late March in northern Minnesota, so syrup season comes at a perfect time. In order to fully embrace a day being productive in the woods, we planned a feast of outdoor cooking while the sap boiled. Maple Sriracha Chicken Kebabs. Maple Pecan Sweet Potatoes. Lamb Kebabs. All cooked on an open fire in the woods. Also a tasty treat— ladling a hot cup of semi-syrup-sap from the pan and adding some peppermint schnapps.
I have fond memories of cooking syrup with my grandparents, and I look forward to moving the family tradition forward.