A Mystery: What Makes a Puffball Grow?

Every fall, usually in September, usually after a rain, there are a number of puffballs that grow along the escarpment behind the house. As a kid, Grandpa would often show up and drop one off for our supper. This year, we only saw one puffball, instead of the many we see normally on an annual basis. We asked our neighbours, who regularly pick puffballs on their property and sell them at the local Farmer's Market, what the ideal growing conditions were. They didn't know, but thought it needed to be wet.

This fall, they had many to pick and sell at the market. In contrast, we had one small one to pick. We breaded and fried a portion for one meal. The rest was frozen for putting into chili later this winter.

I have now researched this mushroom and am still stymied as to why it may not have grown this year as it normally does along the escarpment. It is one of those pieces of knowledge that I know Grandpa had, as he just 'showed up' with one. How he knew when to go looking for one is unknown.

We had always sliced and fried these mushrooms in butter. Since then, locals have taught us to dip the slices in an egg and milk mixture, roll them in flour or breadcrumbs, and then fry in butter. This way, they don't absorb as much butter (and taste just as good!). One of my work colleagues also told me that they freeze well if you want to use for cooking later in the year. Who'd have thought?

Medium-sized Puffball August 2012

Butternut Tree

The butternut tree, or 'white walnut' has been dying since we arrived here in Grey County in 1996. Several have already died in the bush. On the fence line, they are faring slightly better and they are easily identified from the road as they have a very distinctive shape. We have one butternut tree that is still surviving and has 'kept it's shape'. Some of the branches are slowly dying...maybe hiding in shame as this is the tree that, at a young age, my cousins and I (maybe one of my siblings as well) lined up on a horizontal branch, 8 to 10 feet in the air and bellowed out our rendition of 'We are the Monkeys' while dancing as best we could!

Butternut Tree on the Fence Line of the 'Triangle Field'

Spring Beauty

As the snow melts and the syrup season comes to an end, the forest floor starts to green. Wild leeks are the first. The pungent flavour is very different from the leeks we buy and makes the best Leek and Potato Soup ever! Then, in quick succession, come the dog tooth violets, red trilliums, Dutchman's breeches, mayflowers, and the prolific violets in yellow, white and purple. The white trilliums then take over and in some places, turn the ground white.

As kids, Grandpa would just show up and ask if we wanted to go for a walk. He carefully showed us the trees and flowers that I am sure that he loved.

Aunt Sue's Leek and Potato Soup

1 slice bacon

1 T. butter

2 cups diced potatoes

1 cup chopped wild leeks

1 1/2 cups of chicken stock

salt/pepper to taste

1/2 cup milk

1/2 cup grated cheese for garnish

Cut up bacon and fry in saucepan with butter. Peel and dice potatoes. Clean and cut leeks. Add both to bacon and fry for about 5 minutes. Stir in stock, add salt and pepper. Cover and simmer for 30 minutes until potatoes and leeks are tender. Blend to desired consistency. Add milk and reheat, but do not boil. Top with some grated cheese to serve.

(adapted from 1996 Harrowsmith Cookbook)

Dutchman's Breeches

Red Trilliums

White Trilliums

Turning the Ground White

Favourite Place

As you enter the bush to the sugar shack you cross a small spring fed creek descending from one of the many springs emerging along the escarpment. In earlier times, someone has put in a culvert so a tractor can easily cross the creek. The creek never freezes or goes dry, so no matter the time of year, it 'burbles' as it slowly drops over the mixture of granite ('fieldstone') and limestone rocks. It is beautiful to stand on the bridge and listen to the 'burble' and enjoy the view. We have several pictures from that exact spot every year. I just can't NOT take a picture! Once the clean up of the maple syrup equipment is finished, the creek bed is yellow as it is filled with marsh marigolds. Along with the dog-toothed violets, these are the earliest flowers we get to enjoy.

Winter View from the Bridge

McCutcheon Springs 2015

It has now been 20 years that we have been making syrup in the bush. It is unbelievable how time flies!

We started by using buckets and spiles from both of our parents and the old pan from Kevin's family. Kev built the sugar shack in the months following his Dad's death and we used the old brace and bit and a battery powered (that is a car battery!) drill for a total of 350 taps. We had a pretty good year and had to find somewhere to sell the syrup... and so started our Saturday morning ritual at the Owen Sound Farmer's Market!

Old galvanized buckets from the McCutcheon household and lids from neighbour Mac Johnson

The sugar bush faces north with the escarpment to the south. With prevailing winter winds from the northwest, the snow piles deep around the trees (ridiculous to walk through and carry full pails of sap!). Over the early years, we expanded to 450 taps. Everyone that we knew got calls to help collect when the sap was running. I tried to take holidays at the right time, but Mother Nature never cooperated. I usually did the least work of anyone!

Hence, in 2001, we bought a small evaporator and moved to about 750 taps on pipeline. The theory was that Kev could manage a day in the bush by himself. As the pipeline runs by gravity down the slopes of the escarpment, there is limited activity needed for pumping. Although it is a long lonely day, Kev can manage the operation on his own. Now the rest of us join him to keep him company!

Kev's Mom visits every year during syrup season

The machine that makes it all possible!

The Early Days

As a kid, I heard from older family members that 'they' (Grandpa and others of that and the previous generation) made syrup on top of the escarpment by putting the open pan on a crevice and building a fire below. For years, I had looked for this crevice and never found it.

One year, as Kevin was cutting firewood about 2/3 of the way back on the property, he found an old scar deep in a maple tree that looked like it might have been a tap hole. We started our quest again and after a few exploratory hikes, found the crevice. It was far enough back in the property that I felt sorry for the horses and people who climbed the escarpment and slogged through the snow to make syrup in those days.

Old Syrup Site: Maximizing the Landscape for Syrup Making

The oldest record we have of syrup making in this bush was the 1861 census which listed the agricultural production of the land inclusive of 90 lb. of maple syrup. I am the 5th generation of my family to live and make syrup here.

Fire, Ice and Syrup

Syrup making in the 1960's on the escarpment was a great place for kids to learn from their Grandpa. He was and still is the only person that I know who used his jack knife to make cedar shavings to light the fire from both ends of the open pan we used to boil the syrup in. We collected the sap from trees just below and on the escarpment where the northwest winds drive the snow deep against the rock, often freezing the sap. Now we throw the ice away to ensure high quality syrup. Maybe we made poor quality dark syrup. I only remember it tasting good in my school lunches... straight from the bowl with a slice of buttered bread.

Did we really sit in the open winter air and make syrup like this? Today we whine when it is cold in the sugar shack!

Why write?

Grandpa taught me to appreciate the escarpment, the bush, the trees, the flowers, and the food it could supply.