For our family, March has two events that perk up an otherwise dreary month—the first is my husband, Clif’s, and my wedding anniversary and the second is the beginning of maple syrup season. The fourth Sunday of March has been designated as Maine Maple Sunday, and on that day, Clif and I always like to go visit a sugarhouse where the precious substance is being made.

This year we went to Mike’s Maple House, which is off the Holmes Road in Winthrop, right around the corner from us. (Had it not been so cold and blowy, we could have walked.) We went midafternoon, and cars were lined along the side of the dirt road, a little squishy despite the chilly weather. No surprise that there was a crowd. Mainers are crazy about maple syrup, and they prefer the real stuff—strong and sweet with an intense maple flavor.

The sugarhouse, a good-sized brown building, was an easy trip down an equally squishy driveway. The sugarhouse had steam pouring out a vent in a cupola on top of the roof, and alongside the driveway were stacks and stacks of wood used for boiling down the sap. By the side of the building is a huge barrel—one that can hold forty gallons—with a gallon maple syrup jug sitting next to it. Yes, readers, this is how much sap, collected from maple trees in the spring, is needed to make one gallon of maple syrup. A very good visual.

Inside the building, visitors could witness the birth of maple syrup. A huge wood-fired evaporator dominated one side of the room, and between the flames, visible through cracks in the wood box, and the steam of the evaporating sap, it felt as though we were in some kind of alchemist’s workshop. In a way, I suppose we were, with maple syrup rather than gold being the product. The sweet scent of sap filled the sugarhouse, and when combined with the smoky smell of the fire, the effect was intoxicating, producing a nearly irrational desire for maple syrup products.

A table, of course, with such products was set up on the other side of the room. But before whipping out my checkbook, I spoke to Mike Smith, the genial, outgoing owner, and his equally friendly children, Christy Andrews and Ryan Smith. Christy was handing out samples of vanilla ice cream topped with maple syrup, and Ryan was tending the evaporator.

Mike told me that unlike last year, this was a good year for syrup, and he expected to get at least 125 gallons. (Go ahead. Do the math and figure how much sap needs to be boiled down to get this much syrup.)  Mike has been boiling sap since he was small, and for years his family did it for home use. Now Mike makes enough to sell. One year, with the help of an old farmer to collect the sap, he and his family made 210 gallons of syrup. Mike mentioned how his oldest boy has caught on with making maple syrup, and that his youngest son was catching on, too.

Good! May the Smith tradition of boiling sap continue for a long, long time.

Before leaving, I bought four maple whoopie pies—I can’t get away from them, and I’m not sure I want to. The whoopie pies were made by Steve’s Snacks Bakery in Skowhegan, Maine. I also bought a jug of extra-dark maple syrup. While both Clif and I like any grade of maple syrup, even the light, we prefer the rich, dark amber syrup.

I’m thinking I might save this syrup for dessert, to be combined with roasted walnuts and then ladled on vanilla ice cream. So good! And then perhaps invite our friends Diane and Sybil to come over and share the treat. Shannon and Mike could be included, too, if they are free. There is plenty to go around.