It is! When I make pancakes it's basically a production line: batter in pan, cake onto plate, butter and sugar on cake, batter in pan, eat first cake while that one cooks, etc.
Yep. Straight from the bottle. This is real maple syrup, mind, not table syrup or pancake syrup, which are much more... syrupy. Real maple syrup is not significantly thicker than, say, apple juice. It's not as thick as puld-free orange juice, even. You just sip it, it's like eating a candy!
My grandfather used to tap the sugar maples on his property, and one of my childhood friends' parents had a sugar camp. The solidified syrup they skim off in making the big batches of syrup is better, in my memory, than most maple candy.
Hmm, I just found some maple butter in the fridge I think my roomie has forgotten about. *breaks out the crackers and cheddar* Snack time! ;D
Well... it's sweet, yes. But I still crave maple something. By the way, my family thinks it's really cool that you've been to sugar camps and your grandfather used to tap sugar maples.
:D
(I friended you and hope that's okay. I'll be over in the corner all quiet-like--except for when I'm not.)
XD Well, Grampy married a lumberjack's daughter, so he had to build the house on a wooded lot (which is sadly a suburb now), and why waste sugar maples? He also taught me how to make ice cream by hand, how to correctly pick and then deliciously cook fiddleheads -- and the first time I met him, he told me that he worked for Santa Claus. Really! How does Saint Nick really know who's naughty or nice? Grandparents! Plus, Grampy was a Disney princess. By which I mean that animals loved him, and when he was in the woods wild birds and squirrels and rabbits and such would gravitate towards him. My cousins and I once ran into (and then away from) a small bear out around Grampy's workshop shed.
:3
(It is fine! I will friend you back -- and now that kiffie's on dial-up, it might be kinder to move these conversations off her lj. X3 )
Okay, that all sounds like a fairy tale, in a way. :D I'll admit to being very curious about "fiddleheads" (and can google them for the sake of Kiffie's lj), btw, and your Grampy sounds positively charming! (Maybe he really was Ol' Saint Nick in disguise as a Disney Princess--and MY, doesn't THAT conjure up an interesting image).
I sort of bumped into a smallish black bear one time, up in the Minnesota area, and he/she was happily munching away at a birdfeeder.
(Yay about friending back. Eep! about killing the dial-up dedder'n a door nail. Sorry, Kiffie!)
Fiddleheads are delicious, but you have to be careful to pick them at the right time, because the mature fern plant is toxic. As for Grampy -- he could be awesome. But he was not without his flaws and shadows. There is a reason I was old enough to remember meeting him for the first time; my mother wouldn't let me meet him until he'd stopped drinking. But he did seem pretty magical when I was a kid.
I had seen bears before, out west, but they were on the other side of a garbage dump from me, and I was more focused on the dog they had adopted, since he had previously lived with us.
Oh, wait! I *have* heard of fiddleheads now. I think it was on a Man vs. Wild or other survival-type show.
I guess none of us are without our flaws and shadows, but your mother had the right idea. I'm glad you got to see your Grampy as magical and not flawed. :)
I re-read my sentence up there... lol... the bear I saw was happily at a birdfeeder, munching on *seed*. I think I'd've been a bit more skeered if he was happily munching *on* the feeder. This was up in Northern Minnesota and we were staying at a cabin with friends. The freaky thing was that we'd been letting our smallish kids out to play nearby without worry. Good thing they didn't smell like berries or seeds!
*nods* I wouldn't doubt it. At least they have a non-toxic phase, unlike, say, buttercups.
Eee! Yeah, if those kids had been redolant of peanut butter and jam sandwiches, there might have been a problem!
As far as I know, the dog lived out his life happily part of the ursine family. They couldn't take him to the vet if there were health issues, of course, but there you go.
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Syrup is for drinking.
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The syrup being for drinking is... um... you drink syrup?? O.O
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Yep. Straight from the bottle. This is real maple syrup, mind, not table syrup or pancake syrup, which are much more... syrupy. Real maple syrup is not significantly thicker than, say, apple juice. It's not as thick as puld-free orange juice, even. You just sip it, it's like eating a candy!
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I've never had real maple syrup like that. I think I will have to try it.
My family: *watching me sip* What are you doing?
Me: *sips some more* Drinking syrup.
My family: O.o
Me: *sweet grin* Try it. You'll like it! No wrappers or sticks or boxes. Just liquid candy in a bottle!
My family: *\o/*
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Hmm, I just found some maple butter in the fridge I think my roomie has forgotten about. *breaks out the crackers and cheddar* Snack time! ;D
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*goes for toast with chokecherry honey* :D
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[Oz] I'll allow it. [/Oz]
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:D
(I friended you and hope that's okay. I'll be over in the corner all quiet-like--except for when I'm not.)
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:3
(It is fine! I will friend you back -- and now that kiffie's on dial-up, it might be kinder to move these conversations off her lj. X3 )
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I sort of bumped into a smallish black bear one time, up in the Minnesota area, and he/she was happily munching away at a birdfeeder.
(Yay about friending back. Eep! about killing the dial-up dedder'n a door nail. Sorry, Kiffie!)
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Oh, um, lessee how to clog up Kiffie's tubes....
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I had seen bears before, out west, but they were on the other side of a garbage dump from me, and I was more focused on the dog they had adopted, since he had previously lived with us.
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I guess none of us are without our flaws and shadows, but your mother had the right idea. I'm glad you got to see your Grampy as magical and not flawed. :)
I re-read my sentence up there... lol... the bear I saw was happily at a birdfeeder, munching on *seed*. I think I'd've been a bit more skeered if he was happily munching *on* the feeder. This was up in Northern Minnesota and we were staying at a cabin with friends. The freaky thing was that we'd been letting our smallish kids out to play nearby without worry. Good thing they didn't smell like berries or seeds!
I take it the dog turned out okay? I hope!
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Eee! Yeah, if those kids had been redolant of peanut butter and jam sandwiches, there might have been a problem!
As far as I know, the dog lived out his life happily part of the ursine family. They couldn't take him to the vet if there were health issues, of course, but there you go.
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No doubt! It was a bit of an eye opener. Really, we should have been aware of that possibility--especially as we were rusticating with the kiddies.
Sounds like that particular dog was perfectly happy, vet visits or no. :)
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