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magidYesterday I went with JOC* to Sweet Whisper Farm, in Readsboro, VT, billed as "Vermont's only kosher, shomer shabbos, organic, horse-powered maple farm," run by R. Shmuel Simenowitz.
The drive up was beautiful. I'd chosen to take Rte. 2 most of the way, rather than the faster-yet-longer Mass Pike to Rte. 91, and it was much a much prettier drive, more interesting than the interstate. I could see how the season changed as I got more north and west, as snow appeared on the ground, then in the evergreen trees, and started piling up. I think I went at least a month earlier in the season**. There were views of mountains and valleys, tiny houses tucked into corners, historic buildings in the middle of small towns, and almost everywhere water, as the roads frequently followed streams and rivers. Up and up, and the roads narrowed, then became dirt (read: washboard early in the day, then mud once the bright sun melted some of the snow). Luckily, I didn't get stuck, and I found the rest of the group.
It was a different sort of day than I'd expected, with more standing around and general chat than doing. R. Simenowitz is very knowledgeable and an interesting speaker (the kind who not only has useful information, but a great number of interesting anecdotes as well). Which is a plus, but did mean there was more standing around listening than I'd ideally want, especially given that when spending a day outside in the cold it's easier to keep warm when doing stuff than standing. That's pretty much my only disappointment, though. We got to help with the process, getting firewood down to the sugar house, collecting sap from taps nearby (I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't clear liquid that had mostly frozen, looking pretty much like water, and tasting like it too), bringing it to a barrel outside the sugar house, then watching as it was pumped from there inside to the evaporator, which produces enormous quantities of steam when going full blast. (Think of a miniecosystem making it rain inside.)
There was too much snow for the horses, so we used sap from the trees closest to the sugar house. Over the course of the day, the snow got rather slick, which made for challenging footing.
R. Simenowitz felled a couple of trees, so there was the chance to split wood, which was surprisingly mostly done by the kids. I was amused by some of the New Yorkers, applauding when a tree came down (I enjoyed the sound of the chainsaw, reminding me of Dad taking down huge trees), taking pictures of the fungus that had grown on one log, things like that. One woman had worn the suggested boots.... but ones with 3-inch heels.
I learned more about making maple syrup. It takes about 40 gallons of sap to make a gallon of syrup (this shouts to be made into a word problem :-), but the kind of syrup you end up with depends on the trees you start with. Trees with a wider crown tend to result in sweeter syrup. And the grade of syrup is not based on just boiling it longer, but on the quality of the sap. I still don't know why the lightest (in color and flavor) is grade A, the more intense is grade B, and the most intense is grade C (which is apparently as dark as molasses, and not allowed to be sold. No clue why not.) Depending on the weather, the pails hanging from the taps can fill once a day or more, and the number of taps per tree is determined by the girth of the tree. The tap kills an area around it (an oval about three inches on either side and five inches above and below), so subsequent taps are put in different places. A tree can be tapped for most of its life (which can be 200 years or more). Interestingly, birch trees can also be tapped; now I'm curious to taste birch syrup! Random tree fact: ash can be burned without curing.
It was a very Jewish sort of day. R. Simenowitz can't talk without references to Talmud or telling stories of hashgocha pratis. There was mincha in the sugar house (which was built in the shape of a shul from an eastern European shtetl. There was a bonfire later, which was definitely a kumsitz, with more stories, niggunim, and guitar music (a la R. Carlebach).
At the end of the day, I had partly frozen feet, a sunburn (I'd brought sunblock, even; would've been nice to have remembered to use it.), a pint of maple syrup, and lots of new stories to think about. As always, the drive home felt faster, which was good, because I was getting rather tired. (I wish there'd been other Boston people I could've split the driving with.)
Shlomo Simenowitz, R. Simenowitz' son, became a bar mitzvah recently, and started a business with the money he received, Maple With a Mission, raising money for a Springfield (MA) Jewish teens group and some native tribes in South Dakota (I'm blanking on the names of the tribes) by selling pens and mezuzah cases he makes from wood harvested on the farm. (Which is to say, hand-crafted, organic, and sustainable, not to mention beautiful. Depending on my definition of local, they're even locally made :-) I wonder if my dad would like a fountain pen...?
* Which has an interesting policy I'd not noticed before, banning any man withholding a get from his wife more than a year after civil divorce. I wish more Jewish organizations were as progressive (Certainly, the JOC ban by itself is unlikely to rectify any aguna situations. But as a start of communal change, I am pleased.).
** I was reminded of visiting the Smokies in the early spring, where it was full spring in the valleys, but still almost winter high in the hills.
The drive up was beautiful. I'd chosen to take Rte. 2 most of the way, rather than the faster-yet-longer Mass Pike to Rte. 91, and it was much a much prettier drive, more interesting than the interstate. I could see how the season changed as I got more north and west, as snow appeared on the ground, then in the evergreen trees, and started piling up. I think I went at least a month earlier in the season**. There were views of mountains and valleys, tiny houses tucked into corners, historic buildings in the middle of small towns, and almost everywhere water, as the roads frequently followed streams and rivers. Up and up, and the roads narrowed, then became dirt (read: washboard early in the day, then mud once the bright sun melted some of the snow). Luckily, I didn't get stuck, and I found the rest of the group.
It was a different sort of day than I'd expected, with more standing around and general chat than doing. R. Simenowitz is very knowledgeable and an interesting speaker (the kind who not only has useful information, but a great number of interesting anecdotes as well). Which is a plus, but did mean there was more standing around listening than I'd ideally want, especially given that when spending a day outside in the cold it's easier to keep warm when doing stuff than standing. That's pretty much my only disappointment, though. We got to help with the process, getting firewood down to the sugar house, collecting sap from taps nearby (I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't clear liquid that had mostly frozen, looking pretty much like water, and tasting like it too), bringing it to a barrel outside the sugar house, then watching as it was pumped from there inside to the evaporator, which produces enormous quantities of steam when going full blast. (Think of a miniecosystem making it rain inside.)
There was too much snow for the horses, so we used sap from the trees closest to the sugar house. Over the course of the day, the snow got rather slick, which made for challenging footing.
R. Simenowitz felled a couple of trees, so there was the chance to split wood, which was surprisingly mostly done by the kids. I was amused by some of the New Yorkers, applauding when a tree came down (I enjoyed the sound of the chainsaw, reminding me of Dad taking down huge trees), taking pictures of the fungus that had grown on one log, things like that. One woman had worn the suggested boots.... but ones with 3-inch heels.
I learned more about making maple syrup. It takes about 40 gallons of sap to make a gallon of syrup (this shouts to be made into a word problem :-), but the kind of syrup you end up with depends on the trees you start with. Trees with a wider crown tend to result in sweeter syrup. And the grade of syrup is not based on just boiling it longer, but on the quality of the sap. I still don't know why the lightest (in color and flavor) is grade A, the more intense is grade B, and the most intense is grade C (which is apparently as dark as molasses, and not allowed to be sold. No clue why not.) Depending on the weather, the pails hanging from the taps can fill once a day or more, and the number of taps per tree is determined by the girth of the tree. The tap kills an area around it (an oval about three inches on either side and five inches above and below), so subsequent taps are put in different places. A tree can be tapped for most of its life (which can be 200 years or more). Interestingly, birch trees can also be tapped; now I'm curious to taste birch syrup! Random tree fact: ash can be burned without curing.
It was a very Jewish sort of day. R. Simenowitz can't talk without references to Talmud or telling stories of hashgocha pratis. There was mincha in the sugar house (which was built in the shape of a shul from an eastern European shtetl. There was a bonfire later, which was definitely a kumsitz, with more stories, niggunim, and guitar music (a la R. Carlebach).
At the end of the day, I had partly frozen feet, a sunburn (I'd brought sunblock, even; would've been nice to have remembered to use it.), a pint of maple syrup, and lots of new stories to think about. As always, the drive home felt faster, which was good, because I was getting rather tired. (I wish there'd been other Boston people I could've split the driving with.)
Shlomo Simenowitz, R. Simenowitz' son, became a bar mitzvah recently, and started a business with the money he received, Maple With a Mission, raising money for a Springfield (MA) Jewish teens group and some native tribes in South Dakota (I'm blanking on the names of the tribes) by selling pens and mezuzah cases he makes from wood harvested on the farm. (Which is to say, hand-crafted, organic, and sustainable, not to mention beautiful. Depending on my definition of local, they're even locally made :-) I wonder if my dad would like a fountain pen...?
* Which has an interesting policy I'd not noticed before, banning any man withholding a get from his wife more than a year after civil divorce. I wish more Jewish organizations were as progressive (Certainly, the JOC ban by itself is unlikely to rectify any aguna situations. But as a start of communal change, I am pleased.).
** I was reminded of visiting the Smokies in the early spring, where it was full spring in the valleys, but still almost winter high in the hills.
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no subject
Date: 2008-04-04 03:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-04 04:00 pm (UTC)It was fun, though I do wish the snow had been less deep, so there would've been less slide potential, and the chance to use the horses with sap gathering.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-10 03:38 pm (UTC)