Foodlore Library

It felt like winter. The sky was a mottled grey, the wind sharp, and snow kept spitting down on us. But our minds would have none of that; we were squarely focused, full steam ahead, on spring, because the sap was running and it was Maine Maple Sunday, a sure sign of spring in New England–even more sure than the arrival of red-winged blackbirds and crocuses.

The cozy sugar shack: a roomful of Maine's sweet sap