Kukum by Michel Jean

Author:Michel Jean [Jean, Michel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: House of Anansi Press Inc
Published: 2023-06-15T18:16:35+00:00

THE SUGARING-OFF

“We’ll be making snow candy, so we’ll need big baskets.”

Thomas, his brother, and his father had laid large strips of bark down on the snow in front of Christine and me. I didn’t know what the men meant. Christine took my arm.

“Come give me a hand.”

We set to work, and as we made the baskets, my sister-in-law explained the meaning of snow candy, a delightful term I had never heard before.

It took us several days to finish. The sun set late, which made our task easier. For each basket, Malek cut little boards out of pieces of wood. Then, with an axe, he cut slits into the trunks of the maple trees round the camp. When he felt the notch was deep enough, he inserted one of the small boards inside and sat a basket on top. In next to no time, the translucid sap began to flow, dripping into our birchbark recipients. Twice a day, we had to empty the precious liquid into large pots, straining it through cotton fabric to remove any impurities.

Thomas and Daniel built a frame out of spruce trunks on which they hung the pots full of maple water, and we lit a big fire below.

The sap began to simmer, then boil. Just when the liquid looked like it was about to overflow, Christine thrust a fir bough inside the pot. Should the level of water get too low, we’d transfer it into another pot, until there was only one pot left on the fire containing all the boiled-down concentrate from the maple water.

It took us all day. As it boiled down, the liquid took on a pretty amber colour and the sweet smell of sugar wafted through the camp. From time to time, Christine rolled a bit of syrup round a stick, then unrolled it onto the snow to check its consistency. Near the end, she added a bit of moose marrow. “To give it more taste,” she said. Then, satisfied with the result, she removed the pot from the flames. The taffy was ready.

Everyone gathered round. Christine poured strips of syrup onto the snow, and they solidified in the cold. I had never tasted anything like it; the others must have noticed because they smiled as they watched me eat.

Every culture has its own rites. But regardless of skin colour or origin, the act of eating is an opportunity for people to gather together and share.

Christine laid down the strips of liquid magic extracted from a tree. In Innu hands, it turned into maple-flavoured honey. When we were almost done, Christine vigorously stirred what was left of the syrup until it began to crystallize and form a light brown granular substance that she poured into small baskets. We would have enough sugar till the following winter.

When I had my own family, I made winter candy every time the weather made it possible. It took long warm days and cold nights for the sap to flow freely enough. The children helped, and it

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