
Maple Syrup: A Short History of Canada’s Sweetest Obsession
by Peter Kuitenbrouwer
Published on October 29, 2025
Our Verdict
A warm, intelligent, and quietly patriotic exploration of how a simple syrup became the soul of a country.
If there were ever a substance that could double as a national metaphor, it’s maple syrup. In Maple Syrup: A Short History of Canada’s Sweetest Obsession, journalist and forester Peter Kuitenbrouwer traces the sticky, shimmering thread of this iconic product through centuries of Canadian history — from its Indigenous origins to its present-day status as both cultural symbol and global export. Kuitenbrouwer approaches his subject with the steady hand of a historian and the heart of a storyteller. His prose glows with affection for the maple forest, but he resists easy nostalgia. The story he tells is one of resilience and reinvention — of how a seasonal ritual rooted in community and gratitude evolved into an industry, an art form, and, for some, a livelihood. What distinguishes this book from the usual culinary or coffee-table fare is its curiosity. Kuitenbrouwer explores how syrup became not just a food, but a marker of national identity — appearing on flags, souvenirs, and marketing campaigns that attempt to bottle an entire country’s sense of self. He also ventures into the environmental and economic realities behind the sweetness, acknowledging the tensions between tradition and technology, sustainability and profit. Stylistically, Maple Syrup is brisk, engaging, and grounded in place. The writing has the cadence of a walk through a late-March sugar bush: crisp air, the scent of smoke, the slow rhythm of sap dripping into tin pails. It’s a book that invites you to slow down — to consider how something as simple as syrup can carry the weight of memory, economy, and identity. Occasionally, the breadth of the book works against its depth. The chapters move swiftly from cultural history to commerce, from forest ecology to export politics, and some readers may wish for more time spent on the ethical dimensions of resource use or Indigenous sovereignty. Still, the scope feels fitting for a subject that is both humble and vast, earthy and aspirational. Ultimately, Kuitenbrouwer’s achievement lies in transforming what could have been a niche curiosity into a national portrait. He reminds readers that Canada’s sweetness — literal and metaphorical — has always been hard-won: tapped, boiled, and preserved through generations of labour and care.
