I'll Wait for Maple Syrup

I grew up on maple syrup covered pancakes and waffles made lovingly by my “breakfast is my thing” father. Or the occasional special outing at local breakfast-only restaurants with the little glass pitcher with a sliding metal top pouring the perfect consistency over stacks. It was sweet but not too sweet with the color and fragrance of the first frosty morning of autumn. My childhood was mostly real food and more on the healthy side. We had juicers in the 80s and meals were made from scratch. There was nothing too processed until my little brothers came along 11 years later. After which I remember Bagel bites and State Fair Corndogs in the freezer, easy stuff for us to make after school. 

It wasn’t until perhaps my pre-teens at someone else’s house with a toaster waffle when a very different looking bottle of syrup was put before me…. 

Mrs. Butterworths Pancake Syrup. A women shaped glass container housing a very sticky substance. Similar at first glance to maple syrup but a counterfeit in every way it could be, even the caramel color was an added chemical. 

I learned recently in a Chocolate tasting course (very similar to Wine Tasting) that bad chocolate has more sugar added to make up for the bitter lingering aftertaste. You eat it quicker to taste the sugar again that masks the unpleasantness. The faux maple syrup also had a bad aftertaste but the initial hit was so sugary sweet you ate it quickly to regain the sweetness. Before I had finished my plate, it left me with an awful belly ache. 

Did you know that a Maple isn’t tapped until it’s 40 to 45 years old? Afterwards it can continue to be harvested for over 100 years. A slow drip of liquid available in a short window of time in winter while everything else in the forrest is still asleep.

I’ve been thinking about the Maple this week, likening it to myself in age and to waiting for a partner. 

The other syrup is easy to find, cheap and instant. It’s also sticky, faux, gives you a belly ache and leaves you with a bitter aftertaste. Whereas the maple is patience personified. And when it’s matured, out flows something slow but steady as it gracefully fills your bucket. Once it’s been through the fire, it’s transformed to liquid gold and amber. It’s fragrance and taste complex. It makes everything it’s added to richer and warmer. 45 years of experiences in its heart and soul. The droughts, the rains, the locusts and it’s still standing, waiting to show you its hidden treasures stored up for you. 

I’ll wait for the Maple. 

Song of Solomon 7:12-13

Let us go out early to the vineyards: let us see whether the vine has budded and its blossoms have opened, and whether the pomegranates have flowered. There I will give you my love. The mandrakes give forth fragrance, and over our doors are all kinds of choice fruit, both old and new, which I have saved up for you, my beloved.