A Neighborly Jam Session with NY State Apples and Vermont Maple Syrup

This is my absolute last jam session of 2013.  I mean it. I don’t have enough room on my pantry shelves for all the jam I’ve produced, and I haven’t even shared every recipe with you. You have no idea the extent of this obsession. Scary. 

I keep telling myself, “They’ll make great gifts for the holidays.” 

I must admit I’ve been enticed by the signs in the grocery stores for “New York State Apples.” Even the big supermarket chains have taken on the language of local food. So I pick up a “tote” of New York State Gala apples.  

The New York State “Apple Country” website describes the Gala as a juicy variety developed in New Zealand, that is mild and sweet in flavor with crisp, creamy yellow flesh. New Zealand, huh?  So the “local” connection may be a little spurious after all, but it’s probably a good bet they were grown in New York soil.

Many of my jam projects are predicated on what’s in the pantry – and I’ve been holding a bottle of Vermont Maple Syrup from Top Acres Farm in South Woodstock that I purchased last autumn during a visit to the Billings Farm Museum.  

The Ball Blue Book Guide to Preserving completes the jam session with a recipe for Apple-Maple Jam.   It sounds like a nice way to preserve the flavors of autumn well into the cruel, cold winter.   And it’s a perfect mash up, or should we say, “jam up” of two neighboring states – the Empire State and the Green Mountain State. 

The biggest part of the job is chopping the apples, as the recipe requires 3 quarts of chopped fruit.

This is the second time I’ve tried a recipe that doesn’t call for adding pectin. You cook down the fruit until it releases its own pectin naturally.  

The mixture looks like a big apple stew.  It is rich with cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and allspice. 

I’m not sure I actually cook it long enough get to the jelling point.  Despite the use of a candy thermometer, I can’t quite seem to get the jam to the “soft ball” temperature.  I stand over the pot for what seems like an eternity, and start to feel a bit like a kitchen drudge. 

After boiling the jam within an inch of its life, I give up and decide to go ahead and process the jam. 

The kitchen smells like a Vermont Maple Syrup House on Thanksgiving Day, and the chunks of apples hang suspended like little jewels in the maple jam. 

So what if it’s a little syrupy in the end?  I can always use it on top of pancakes or waffles. Better yet – how about atop a scoop of vanilla ice cream? That would be awesome. The key thing about jamming, is you just have to be flexible. 

Here’s the recipe from the “Ball Blue Book Guide to Preserving,” in case you want to try your luck at reaching the “gelling point.”  Something about that phrase sounds vaguely scandalous.  As always, be sure to follow proper canning and food safety procedures.

Apple-Maple Jam  (Yield: about 8 half pints) 

3 quarts chopped, peeled, cored apples

6 cups sugar

1 teaspoon cinnamon

½ teaspoon allspice

½ teaspoon nutmeg

¼ teaspoon cloves

1 cup maple syrup

Combine ingredients in a large pot and slowly bring to boil.  Cook rapidly to gelling point. As jam thickens, stir frequently to prevent sticking. Remove from heat and skim foam if necessary.  Ladle hot jam into hot jars, leaving ¼ inch headspace. Adjust two-piece caps. Process 10 minutes in a boiling water canner. 

©2013 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Old-Time Maple Gingerbread in a Snap

My schedule becomes a nightmare around the holidays. Every year, I can see it coming like a turkey waddling across the barn yard. It may look like a clear shot to Thanksgiving, but suddenly my calendar is choked with out-of-town assignments. Last year, I dozed off three times during Thanksgiving dinner, having just arrived home from Europe the night before.

And, now as another festive season approaches, instead of spending time preparing in the kitchen, I’m on the security line at the airport.

I’ve learned to cope with the travel. I got rid of my lace-up shoes years ago, and I have a whole selection of microfiber clothing that crunches into any suitcase and comes out wrinkle-free. I listen to seasonal music on-the-go on my Ipod, and I dream up holiday menus while reclining in the emergency exit row.

It helps to have a selection of recipes at hand that are short on preparation and big on those traditional autumnal Thanksgiving flavors.

Quick breads are a welcomed addition to any road-warrior’s culinary portfolio, and easily prepared and frozen in advance of the holiday feast.

Old-Time Maple Gingerbread takes only minutes to prepare and can be squeezed in between a flight to the Windy City, a trek to Denver, or an Amtrak trip to our nation’s capital. It’s a great way to use the gallons of maple syrup I purchased in Vermont, and it’s a snappy alternative to the usual options of pumpkin or corn bread on the Thanksgiving table. The loaf emerges from the oven a lustrous amber-color and each sweet, tender slice has hints of ginger, toffee and caramel.

And, if you happen to see a guy trying to get a 20-pound turkey through the metal detector at LaGuardia Airport this holiday season, be sure and say “Hi!” It’s probably me.

©2007 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Got Syrup?

It is clear – even months before the annual sugaring season in February and March – that maple syrup pulses through the veins of Vermonters. It is the life blood of the state, blanketing every hill and valley with a glossy coating of sweet amber sap, even when the sugarhouses have gone dark and the steam has dissipated.

In October, the maple leaves turn an incendiary crimson red and the maple lover can find sugary maple leaf candies, maple dessert wine, maple ice cream, maple-flavored mustard, maple pumpkin butter, maple fudge, and shelf-upon-shelf of bottles and rectangular tin jugs of traditional maple syrup labeled Grade A Fancy, Medium Amber, and Dark Amber. Fancy is the color of golden honey, Medium Amber resembles a wheat-colored pilsner and Dark Amber is the color of English stout.

In Vermont, maple syrup is magic. Native American’s called the sugar maple “Sweet Bud.” For the true enthusiast, a single word on a license plate declares a life-long devotion.

Nearly every farm seems to have a sugarhouse out back. We spot shiny tanks and miles of tubing in the woods, a sign of the annual sugaring season.

It will be several months before maple sugar production begins, but the family is on duty at Sprague and Son Sugarhouse on Route 100 in Jacksonville, Vermont, even during the fall foliage season. Sprague and Son is a sturdy wooden structure, trimmed in honey-colored wood panels, with shiny chimney pipes emerging from the roof. Cords of firewood are neatly stacked out back.

Karen Sprague greets us as we enter the sugarhouse. The day is warm, her hair is pulled back and she wears a sleeveless top. She is full of energy and bursting with information about the production of maple syrup.

“I married into the business,” she explains. The Sprague family has been collecting maple syrup in Vermont for six generations, and practices traditional methods of producing maple syrup. On the average, the Sprague family produces about one quart of syrup per tree each season, working from about 4,800 maple trees. Karen explains that the product of each sugarhouse is distinct and original.

“There are no two batches of syrup that taste the same, and no two sugarhouses that taste the same. We are all completely different.”

It was a commitment to sharing their craft with the public that inspired the Sprague family to build their sugarhouse on a main road. They liked the idea of inviting the public in, but the first weekend they were so busy with visitors, it proved a distraction.

“We actually scorched the pans,” laughs Karen.

Small glass vials filled with syrup line the window sill, showing the variation in color from the previous year’s batch. In the center of the room is a long metal pan, which sits atop a rectangular enclosed wood burning stove. The sap is stored by tanks at the side of the road, piped into this evaporator and then heated until it reaches the critical temperature that turns the mixture to syrup. The evaporator can hold up to 1,000 gallons of sap.

I learn that there is an instinctive feel to producing quality maple syrup. “My husband and father-in-law can determine when it’s syrup just by looking at it,” explains Karen.

I ask how she would describe the flavor of their syrup, and she gives her answer some thought. “Woody, because we burn with wood, so it does pick up a natural woody flavor.”

The finished product is stored hot in metal drums and eventually packaged in smaller batches.

Karen takes some syrup that has been heating in a metal box with a spout and pours it into Dixie cups for us to sample. We sip the silky liquid. It is a wild toboggan ride – clean, molten flavors of caramel, toasted nuts, sweet smoke and honey. We purchase several jugs of Vermont Grade A Medium Amber. The containers are still warm in our hands as the batch has just been bottled hours earlier.

I ask Karen about her favorite methods for using maple syrup in the kitchen. “I’m a vegetarian,” she replies. “I steam most of my vegetables and sprinkle them with maple sugar or syrup.” She drizzles sweet potatoes with maple syrup before baking, and her son is an advocate for using maple syrup as a glaze for pork or veal.

“You could get rid of every sweetener in your house for cooking or baking and use maple syrup,” Karen explains.

One gets a sense of the sheer excitement the Spragues experience each season as they produce a completely natural food product. “It’s the most amazing thing to take something from the tree that looks like water and see that liquid turn to syrup,” says Karen with a broad smile.

During the sugaring season, results are dependent on nature and what the trees offer. The Spragues have worked as briefly as four hours, or as long as 72 continuous hours done in shifts. The maple trees set the schedule.

“When the sap flows, you boil,” Karen smiles.

What better way to make use of my supply of Pure Vermont Maple Syrup from Sprague and Son than by mixing up a batch of hearty muffins for autumn, bursting with the flavors of New England?

Cranberry Maple Walnut Muffins

(Adapted from "The Official Vermont Maple Cookbook, Third Edition, Published by the Vermont Maple Foundation)

2 cups sifted flour
¼ cup butter
¼ cup sugar
3 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
½ cup chopped fresh cranberries
½ cup chopped walnuts, toasted and cooled
1 egg
½ cup milk
½ cup Vermont maple syrup

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Combine flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in a large bowl. Cut butter into small cubes and cut in with your fingers until blended well. Add cranberries and walnuts. Beat together egg, milk and maple syrup and fold into dry ingredients until just blended. Fill paper-lined muffin tins 2/3 full and bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes. Yield: 12 muffins.

Click here for more information on the history of Vermont’s maple sugaring industry. Click here for more recipes using Vermont maple syrup.

©2007 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved