Some axioms apply to maple syrup that just aren’t challenged.
For instance, lighter color equates to better syrup. And batches boiled down late in the season just aren’t as … delicious.
Finicky late-season weather led one county sugarmaker to experiment, and his customers were happy with the result.
“The flavor of maple syrup comes from the sap, of course, and that changes throughout the season,” said John Heiss, who considers himself more of a hobbyist than commercial maker of maple syrup. His total production came to about 53 gallons, a bit more than a typical year even though the season lasted only about four weeks. A six-week season is considered optimal.
Once sap started flowing, albeit not until March 3, it poured with vengeance out of maples on Heiss’ 60-acre parcel in Leland Township. It takes about 40 gallons of sap to produce one gallon of syrup.
Then as naturally occurs, when days grew longer maple trees started flowing sap with more starch up and down their vascular systems.
“The tree is calling for the starch to start turning buds into leaves,” Heiss said.
That’s usually a signal to pull taps and call it a season. But due to near-ideal day and night temperatures in very late March and even into early April, Heiss kept the boiler on. For instance, on April 1 the temperature hit 40 degrees during the day and fell to 18 that evening at the Maple City volunteer weather station operated through the National Weather Service.
Heiss found the season finale product uniquely tasty.
Still amply sweet, shades of brown and red crept into the syrup’s color. The signature maple syrup flavor — the one Log Cabin wishes it could emulate — took on hints of molasses and even the nutty flavor of sorghum.
Think stout beer as opposed to Bud Lite.
Heiss could be found alongside Lake Leelanau drive two weeks ago peddling the last of his concoction. He explained the syrup color to each potential customer and offered small spoons for taste tests.
He wanted folks to know what they were buying.
The syrup sold like hot cakes. He’s out.
Like other Leelanau sugarmakers, he considers himself lucky to have avoided the mayhem created north of the county by an ice storm March 28-30 that left power out for weeks while toppling maple trees and destroying taps. About onethird of Michigan’s maple syrup comes from the northeast section of the Lower Peninsula, where the ice storm caused the most damage.
In Leelanau, which got rain as opposed to ice, the weather system served only to extend the sap system. That in turn gave Heiss an opportunity to experiment.
