The season is winding down. The sap has been running for three weeks and the trees are beginning to bud, which means the sap will turn bitter soon — this is the signal that the season is ending, that the tree is moving its energy upward toward leaves rather than sideways into the buckets. You can taste the change in the sap before you can see it in the trees. A slight murkiness. A flavor that is not quite right. I have been doing this long enough that I taste it on the first day and start planning the last boil.
I took the taps out Friday. The holes will heal over the summer — the tree seals them with new bark, which takes about three years to be completely invisible. I have been watching some of the holes from the 1990s gradually disappear. In another decade they will be gone entirely. The tree has no particular opinion about having been tapped. It heals regardless. This seems like a useful model.
The syrup for the year: twelve gallons. Better than last year's nine. I divided it into jars and labeled them with the year and the approximate date of boiling, because my grandfather did this and it seems like the right thing to do. Some jars go to David and Sarah. Some go to the farm stand. Some stay in the cellar for our own use over the next twelve months. Helen will use the last jar sometime in February, which means I will have tapped the trees again before we run out. This has been true every year since 1977. I find this satisfying in a way I cannot precisely explain and therefore will not try to.
Frost is muddy. Everything is muddy. April is one week away. The garden is under six inches of saturated soil. The snowdrops are up. Some things push through regardless of conditions, which is a quality I respect without reservation.
The first jar I open for cooking rather than giving away always goes into something simple — something that lets the syrup speak for itself without being buried under other flavors. This granola is that recipe. It has been in Helen’s rotation for years, and every batch we make with our own syrup tastes different from every other batch, which I suspect is more about the season than the recipe. This year’s syrup is darker than last year’s, with a longer finish. The granola will reflect that, and I find I am glad to have a reason to open a jar before February.
Grain-Free Granola
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 2 cups raw almonds, roughly chopped
- 1 cup raw pecans, roughly chopped
- 1 cup raw walnuts, roughly chopped
- 1/2 cup raw pumpkin seeds
- 1/2 cup raw sunflower seeds
- 1/2 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
- 1/3 cup pure maple syrup
- 3 tablespoons coconut oil, melted
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 325°F and line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Combine dry ingredients. In a large bowl, stir together the almonds, pecans, walnuts, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, and shredded coconut until evenly mixed.
- Make the coating. In a small bowl, whisk together the maple syrup, melted coconut oil, vanilla extract, cinnamon, and salt.
- Coat the granola. Pour the maple syrup mixture over the nut and seed mixture and stir thoroughly until every piece is coated.
- Spread and bake. Transfer the mixture to the prepared baking sheet and spread into an even layer. Bake for 20–25 minutes, stirring once halfway through, until the granola is golden and fragrant. Watch it closely in the final five minutes — it can go from golden to burnt quickly.
- Cool completely. Remove from the oven and let cool on the pan without stirring. The granola will crisp up as it cools. Once fully cooled, break into clusters.
- Store. Transfer to an airtight jar or container. Keeps at room temperature for up to two weeks.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 380 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 30g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 75mg