Celebrating the Magic of Solstice, the Holidays & a New Year

Every year around this time, Syrup Maker Paul's wife, Jeri, who is not conventionally religious, gives us her version of The Linus Speech, which postulates that Christmas is principally rooted not in virgin births, but solstice celebrations, and thus

Solstice Shrub on a snowy day

should be celebrated as the tipping point in the darkness. (Uninitiated to Peanuts? Here is Linus delivering his famous address!) It wouldn't be the holidays without this spontaneously delivered annual speech, which has become part of the familiar rituals that make the holidays, well, the holidays in this corner of existence. We don't all subscribe to The Speech, and Jeri has come to Christmas Eve service and sung carols, held candles, lit menorahs, and exchanged gifts for years. Frankly, I think all of the December holiday traditions are in some manner about light: Celebrations to cultivate the hope we all need to keep going and a community revelry of joy in darkness. We all need a star and candles in the darkest month. Yet I think Jeri's speech gets to the root of the discomfort many feel during the December holidays--wondering if it is too big, too weighted with imperative, too costly financially, ecologically and emotionally to restore hope. It may be. The solution here is to take a walk in the nearest forest.

December on the farm is more simple than many months. The sap lines have been cleaned. The wood is cut, split and stacked. We're packing syrup, shrub, honey, jams, and asparagus to ship around the country to our FarmFam. Yes, there is some shoveling and plowing, but there is also the chance to strap on some skis or snowshoes and head into the woods. The woods is where the striped pattern of tree shadows falls across the snow, where the tracks of rabbits, deer, squirrels, turkeys and other animals are displayed in real time. It is where fresh springs push running water into stream beds--defying cold temperatures--and where the low winter sun makes the snow sparkle like diamonds. Being in the forest brings peace and appreciation for the power and beauty of the world. It reminds us that less is often more. Less brings with it peace and authenticity and restores the wonder of the season.

We are committed to less. With less, the true nature of a thing can shine. We have enjoyed chatting with you this past month, discussing how the trees themselves flavor each batch of our Whole Maple syrup, and also how simple ingredients make our fruit shrubs and charcuterie pastes taste so full of life. Less processing lets the nature of the syrup shine. We must confess that we do embrace "more" when it comes to examination--more observations, more exploration, more discourse. In the coming year, we will do more to share our observations with you, and hopefully that will unwrap some of the magic for you.

The first topic we'd like to unpack in 2026 is the concept of terroir. Very briefly, terroir (pronounced “ter-wahr") is a French word rooted in the word terre (land). Terroir encompasses the impact of soils, climate, growing conditions, and product design and handling (savoir faire or "know how" that defines craft) that influence the taste of foods. It is a term that is common to wine and specialty coffees, but it is largely unexplored in the nascent world of craft syrup. Let's change that in 2026. For those eager to explore the concept, check out the well-written tome, The Taste of a Place: A Cultural Journey into Terroir by Amy Trubek, and prepare to be intrigued. It is a window into food that will get you tasting everything differently. Slowing down and tasting is an excellent way to battle back against holiday cookies and unmet commercial expectations of the season. And while you're waiting to for the book to arrive, take a walk among the trees. Soak in their wisdom and appreciate all they have experienced and endured. We can experience and endure, too. Light a candle on your return and reflect on the magic of the darkness of December. We will be doing the same, with gratitude for this journey and all of you.

Happy holidays, Farm Farm! May the joy of the season find you in the quiet moments, and may the joy of possibilities flood your new year!