By February, the long month. The baking day with Carol was excellent — two starters, two loaves each, the kitchen warm and smelling of yeast and flour all afternoon. Her starter, at three weeks, is more energetic than mine: younger and volatile, with a more pronounced sourness. Mine, at five years, has become something quieter and more complex. We tasted the two loaves next to each other and they were genuinely different things. Same flour, same method, different organisms at work. The starter carries the character of the place it's been kept.
Helen's birthday was this week. February nineteenth. She would have been sixty-nine. The same age I just turned last month, which is not a coincidence she would have let pass without comment — she was always amused that I was a year older, always slightly pleased by it. I made chicken pot pie this year on her birthday, the same dish I've made the last two years on this date. It's become the birthday ritual: the thing she liked, made on her day, eaten with Carol who drives over and brings wine and stays until ten o'clock. We talked about her. We do, every year. We will, every year. That seems correct.
The maple grove walk on Sunday. I go every February, checking the trees, looking for signs of what the season will do. The sap is still locked in the cold. Four to six weeks. A specific patience, one of the more satisfying ones, because you know what's coming and you know your waiting is part of getting there.
The sap won’t run for another four to six weeks — I know this, and the knowing is its own kind of comfort. But standing in that grove on Sunday, I wanted something to carry the maple forward into the house, into the week that had already held so much. Making pralines is the answer I keep coming back to: a small, deliberate sweetness that asks for patience at the stove the same way the trees ask for patience in the cold. It felt right after Helen’s birthday, after the wine and the talking — something to make with my hands, something that rewards the waiting.
Maple Pralines
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 24 pralines
Ingredients
- 2 cups pure maple syrup
- 3/4 cup heavy cream
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1 1/2 cups pecan halves, lightly toasted
- 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
Instructions
- Prepare your surface. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set them near the stove. Have a candy thermometer ready and clipped to your pot.
- Combine and cook. In a heavy-bottomed medium saucepan, combine the maple syrup, heavy cream, and butter over medium heat. Stir gently until the butter melts and the mixture is smooth. Stop stirring once it reaches a boil.
- Reach soft-ball stage. Cook, without stirring, until the mixture reaches 238°F on your candy thermometer (soft-ball stage). This takes roughly 15 minutes — watch it closely in the last few minutes.
- Remove from heat. Pull the pan off the heat and let it sit undisturbed for 2 minutes. Add the toasted pecans, vanilla extract, and sea salt.
- Beat to thicken. Stir vigorously with a wooden spoon for 3 to 4 minutes, until the mixture loses its gloss and begins to look opaque and slightly grainy. Work quickly — it sets fast.
- Spoon onto parchment. Drop rounded tablespoons onto the prepared baking sheets, spacing them about 2 inches apart. Let cool completely at room temperature, at least 20 minutes, until firm and set.
- Store. Store in a single layer in an airtight container at room temperature for up to one week, separated by parchment if stacking.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 135 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 25mg