Maple Syrup

Where was I with that story? Ah yes! This juice is collected and boiled for hours and when it has evaporate until the consistence of maple syrup, it is then filtered and put into cans, bottles, etc. The temperature must be perfect; too much cooking and we end up with a thick liquid (like honey) which is not good for maple syrup; Too less and the result is too diluted, too clear, and not adequate. Today, the process of collecting the sap of the maple trees is mechanical; a network of plastic tubes are connected to each tree in the "Erabliere"(a field or forest of maple trees) and a pump draw all the sap into the Cabane a Sucre to be boiled. However, this procedure is not poetic at all. For me it is ugly because we literally suck the juice from the plant, which is more like vampires who suck the blood of their victims. On the contrary, when I was a kid, we used the traditional way to collect the sap which is putting "chaudieres"(recipient) hooked under the hole from where the sap drop by drop fill the recipient. The sap is just flowing when the temperature is above 0 degree Celsius and at night the trees stop dropping their juice. What was I saying... Oh yeah! We used horses and big oak barrels mounted on sleighs to collect the precious sap. And then, when then barrels were filled, we had to head back to the shack and empty them into big reservoirs. And over again until all the sap had been gathered. I have to say that it was a pretty hard labour, for us as well as for 2 the big horses that we had because in Quebec there is, in average , at least 1 meter-deep of snow everywhere in the forest. Even if we used leather snowshoes, our feet still were going deep down in the heavy snow and it was very excriciating for a 8 years old kid. Sometimes we even had to help our horses, because they were stucked in the snow as well. But even if it may sound like nightmare, these souvenirs form the best memories I had from my youth. After a hard day's work, all my brothers, my cousins, uncles, gathered in the cabane a sucre to eat the unbeatable food that our grandmother had cooked: crepes with real maple syrup, real pea soup, ham, cabage salad, potatoes, and tea to help digest this huge amount of food we ate. This was a real fest.
I also remember nights of boiling sap , sitting, chatting and listening to a Montreal Canadiens hockey game diffused on a battery radio. There was no electricity there, just wood and fire to keep us dry and warm. I wish you were there to really see what all this really mean to me but the only way I have is to write that story which just tip of the iceberg of my memory.