Sacre Bleu! Cabane a Sucre!

This past weekend, Yilin and I flew to Montreal to visit her parents (thanks to their generosity), and also to celebrate a timeless Quebecois tradition: cabane a sucre, or "sugar shack." This was probably the most unique meal I have had in years. The idea is that every spring, when the maple sap flows, maple syrup is made and a giant feast is held to celebrate. The particular sugar shack we went to was called "Sucrerie de la Montagne." It is world famous, as is it's owner Pierre Faucher, who is instantly recognizable by his beard. Images of him and his majestic beard, both carved and drawn, decorate every wall, nook, and cranny of the place.

All manner of tasty food is prepared, with maple syrup flowing freely like water. Dozens and dozens of people sit around big wooden tables on big wooden benches and eat this feast. All the while a band will play on a stage, people will be dancing and singing, and everyone has a good time. Of course, there is alcohol to help facilitate this sort of behavior, but I think that the sheer rate of sugar consumption per capita is enough to substitute for so commonplace a drug.

Imagine this, if you will: You pull into a parking lot which is overflowing with cars, only to realize that the only available parking is on the street. Walking up the driveway towards the cabane (that's "cabin" in English, for all the uncosmopolitanites like myself) you see a long line of people waiting to buy tickets. You walk into a very large log cabin, wait for the hostess to seat you, and are faced with the sight of hundreds of people feasting on a variety of foods, all of which are drowning in maple syrup.

Ok, that is a bit of an exaggeration. There were hundreds of people feasting, but not everything was drowning in maple syrup. Except for my plate. I ate everything that was put in front of me with maple syrup on top: bread and butter, pea soup (yes, I put maple syrup in my pea soup; at this point Yilin's mom informed me that there was no emergency room open at night within an hour of their house), sausages, meat pie, meatballs, ham, baked beans, omelette, bacon, pickles, pancakes, and sugar pie. If the bottle of maple syrup wasn't communal I probably would've taken a swig. I can't get enough of that maple sugar stuff!

Needless to say I felt as if I had just eaten a Thanksgiving feast. Stuffed beyond belief, and as happy as a clam.

It was good to see her parents again. I always enjoy going to see them in Montreal as they treat me like family. The weather was great, so we didn't even need jackets while we were there. And I also got to experience the hospitality of their neighbors Lilian and Claude, who have their own sugar shack in their back yard! They made us waffles, a cake (I can't remember the name, but it was like an angelfood cake filled with maple syrup), maple-sugar-brownie-square-like things that were great, and "le tire" (I probably got that wrong as I know about 5 French words, all of which I used in the title of this post). This 'le tire" thing is great: you take warm maple syrup and pour it over packed ice, then as it is hardening you roll it onto a popsicle stick. Amazing.

And that is the one word I would use to describe this past weekend: amazing. It was good to get out of lab, good to get out of NYC, good to see her parents, and good to eat a lifetime supply of maple syrup. I have already decided that I am going to build a sugar shack, wherever I live. If I have to build one in my apartment and tap maple trees in Fort Tryon Park, I will. Type II diabetes here I come!