Review of Maple Syrup: A Short History of Canada's Sweetest Obsession by Peter Kuitenbrouwer

Did I ever think I would read a nonfiction book about maple syrup? No. Yet when the opportunity arose thanks to NetGalley and Penguin Random House, in exchange for a review, I jumped. I love maple syrup as much as the next sweettoothed Canadian! Peter Kuitenbrouwer brings a uniquely suited perspective to chronicle the history and economics of the industry with writing that feels as comprehensive as it is warm.

Kuitenbrouwer’s history is smartly organized, loosely but not slavishly chronological, with a particular focus on how geography as much as history has affected maple syrup production. He starts with a general overview of what is actually involved in making syrup: tapping trees, extracting and boiling sap, etc. We learn some basic terms, like sugarbush. From there, he traces the development of syrup production as a cultural practice of Indigenous peoples to a pastime by settlers to a full-blown industry that contributes to Quebec’s GDP. Along the way, he invokes the consequences of climate change, covers the famous syrup heist, and generally just informs us all about syrup.

I really like the attention given to Indigenous peoples’ relationship to maple syrup. Not only does Kuitenbrouwer fully acknowledge the genocidal colonial history of Canada, but he draws a direct line from that to the sugarbush: early settlers would clear sugarbush for farmland, and they were aware that many Indigenous peoples used it for medicine. Later, when settlers appropriated syrup-making, they did so in a way that largely shut out First Nations. Kuitenbrouwer doesn’t shy away from this. He interviews someone from Wasauksing First Nation, on Parry Island, who has a growing commercial syrup operation. Moreover, Kuitenbrouwer’s entire approach to how he discusses maple syrup feels like an attempt to be decolonial: it’s about being in good relation to the land first, and making syrup and profit last. This is most obvious in how he bookends the experience with discussions of his own childhood and then, later, his more recent attempts at making his own syrup.

Indeed, Kuitenbrouwer brings a fascinating nexus of perspectives to this endeavour. A journalist by trade, he grew up in eastern Ontario; he has sugaring off in his blood. Later in life, he became a forester, and now he has his own sugarbush. He isn’t a commercial producer himself, so he remains an outsider to the industry, yet he has written enough stories about maple syrup to make enough connections. I feel like he does a good job of trying to be as unbiased as possible—he equally represents the views of both the syrup cartel and the “rebels,” as he calls them, and frankly discusses how his own views have evolved over his years of covering the industry’s battles between Big Syrup and the little guys. (If anything, he comes across as slightly biased in favour of the cartels—under the guise of supply management as a boon for producers—a bias I likely already shared before I read the book and which feels slightly reinforced afterwards.)

Again, though, I really like how he brings it all back to the land. To the trees. The most poignant chapters are the ones that discuss climate change and how unique eastern Canada and the northeastern United States are when it comes to sugarbush. There’s nowhere else that can produce syrup at this volume. As we heat our planet, we jeopardize maple syrup. Maybe that seems like a small thing in the grand scheme … but I like maple syrup and all its derivatives. I don’t want to lose that.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that there is a beguiling conscientiousness to Kuitenbrouwer’s writing. He cares. He cares about the planet, about people. He makes us care about the big guys and the small guys. He cares about accurately sharing the ugly parts of Canada’s history. At times it feels like he goes on at length more than I would like, and sometimes it’s a bit repetitive—could have used a little more editing.

Stuart McLean would have loved this book, I thought to myself as I read it. This guy has big Vinyl Cafe energy. And I hope that’s a big enough compliment.