The Sap is Rising
…..or is it?
I’ve a confession: although my long-standing interest in wild food cookery does add incredibly wild and nutritious versatility to my daily menu with respect to rich soups, unique salad combinations and intriguing side vegetables – all very health promoting and worthy; truth be told, I’m actually somewhat of a sugar addict. Yet, for the most part, sweet wild foods are associated with the abundant fruitfulness of summer and autumn – apples, pears, cherries, blackberries, bilberries, mulberries etc, and as delicious as such fruits are in their unprocessed state or as fruit leathers, their sweetness is invariably counterbalanced by varying degrees of acidity. Hardcore, unadulterated and non-toxic sweetness is actually quite hard to come by in the natural world, at least where I live in the South East of England. Here sugar maple Acer saccharum sap, as well as the syrup or crystaline sugar prepared from it, is hard to obtain, as is the even more intriguing sugar lerp preparations of the wonderfully inovative Pascal Bauder in California. Indeed if you’re an American or Canadian and looking for some useful information on tapping sugar maples, you may learn something of interest here, but best to check out some other sources that specifically detail that process. These are good:
Maple syrup production for the beginner, Making Maple Syrup, Backwoods Home Magazine, Tap My Trees, Small Batch Maple Syrup Making.
And yet here in the United Kingdom, from as early as the final week of February (Southern England) until as late as the end of April (Scotland), and with a similar early to later coming of the spring across the different states of the US, that hardcore sweetness lies quite literally in untapped abundance, residing in diluted form within the trunks of some of our commonest trees: Birch (Betula species), Sycamore (Acer pseudoplatanus), Field Maple (Acer campestre), Lime (Tilia species), Walnut and various others. All, in theory, can be successfully tapped for their sap, the first two providing the best results in my experience. Birch, especially, is fail safe! For the purpose of this article then, ‘sap’ refers to birch sap unless otherwise stated. Howerver, before getting down to discussing that, and the all important question of, “but why bother tapping trees for sap in the first place?” let’s briefy look at other trees to tap.
Trees And Other Plants That Can Be Tapped For Sap
Four good sources of information about this that I’ve come across are The Plants For A Future database, The Agroforestry Research Trust, the website Wildfoodism, and my own random walk abouts with a sharp knife and curious mind.
The Agroforestry Research Trust has a useful pamphlet giving details of many trees that can, potentially, be tapped. It only costs £1:
Including even more species than the above factsheet, is the highly informative Plants For A Future Site. The database details 80 different plants, mostly trees, but also shrubs, vines, and herbaceous plants from which an edible sap can be obtained. The species or genera involved include not only the more well-known Acer (maple), Betula (birch), Jugulans (walnut), and Carya (hickory) species, but also Pinus (pine), Alnus (alder), Larix (larch), Populus, Eucalyptus, Agave, Fushia, Hydrangea, Platanus, Rubes, Actinidia, Eleocharis, Jubaea, Nothofagus, Paederia, Parthenocissus, Prumnopitys, and Ripogonum. This is really useful information, and can certainly help focus ones explorations if one wants to make sap discoveries beyond the obvious maples and birches.
The Wildfoodism website, while sticking mainly with the better know sap-tapable genera of Acer, Betula, and Jugulans, provides some additional information on flavour and sugar content. It mentions 22 different tapable trees:
Sugar maple (Acer saccharum), Black maple (Acer nigrum), Red maple (Acer rubrum), Silver maple (Acer saccharinum), Norway maple (Acer platanoides), Boxelder (Acer negundo), Bigleaf maple (Acer macrophyllum), Canyon maple, big tooth maple (Acer grandidentatum), Rocky Mountain maple (Acer glabrum), Gorosoe (Acer mono)Butternut, White walnut (Juglans cinerea), Black walnut (Juglans nigra), Heartnut (Juglans ailantifolia), English walnut (Juglans regia), Paper birch (Betula papyrifera), Yellow birch (Betula alleghaniensis), Black birch (Betula lenta), River birch (Betula nigra), Gray birch (Betula populifolia), European white birch (Betula pendula), Sycamore (Platanus occidentalis), Ironwood, hophornbeam (Ostrya virginiana).
My somewhat random and inconclusive explorations in the garden nevertheless revealed some interesting discoveries. The inconclusive nature of the exploration comes from the fact that although, at the time (12th March 2018), silver birch sap was in full flow, it could be that some of the species tested would have produced a good sap flow either earlier or later in the season, or perhaps not. I tested:
Indean Bean Tree, Service Tree, Goat Willow, White Willow, Lime, Hawthorn, Red Oak, Pedunculate Oak, Sessile Oak, Black Poplar, Apple, Rosa multiflora, Himalayan Honeysuckle, Fushia, Horse Chestnut, Sweet Chestnut, Hazel, Wysteria, Ash, Rowan, Black Mulberry, Larch, Beech, Cutleaf Japanese Maple, Japanese Flowering Quince, Grape (Vitis vinifera and Vitis coignetiae), Porcelain Vine (Ampelopsis brevipedunculata var.
The most interesting personal discovery was from the tree I enjoyed collecting the ripe fallen fruits from in late summer, the Cornelian Cherry. This is a member of the Dogwood genus, but I can find no reference to sap being collected from it. Although it has been in blossom for 2 weeks, its sap flow is still quite forceful, dripping at about half the rate of birch.
What does one do with such sappy opportunities? One makes Seven Sap Syrup, and updates this blog whilst sipping a Sappy Seven, of course!
The photo in this picture, of me tapping London Plane Trees outside the Houses of Parliament in London whilst wearing a dodgy 70s leather jacket, and carrying a hand drill around as if it’s a gun, takes us smoothly into the next section: Where to tap?
Where To Tap And Where Not To Tap!
As with foraging generally, unless you are foraging around your own home, the most considerate thing to do, and often, but not always, the approach that causes least problems is to ask permission from the land owner. I think this is likely to me more readily obtainable as regards sap collection if you go for the more gentle method of tapping the end of a branch.
The images below from 2010 show me exploring an idea at the edge of absurdity and extreme. I wanted to discover what would happen if I tapped without permission in one of the most inappropriate places possible. Two places were chosen: Right outside The Ministry of Defense in London, and very near to The Houses of Parliament (note: no trees were actually drilled, so I wasn’t really foraging, just pretending to). This was with a view to writing an article about foraging and the law (which I still haven’t got around to writing). The result here was wonderfully and dramatically predictable: Two flanks of battle-ready police coming at me from two directions. To their credit, as I did my best to act like a clueless idiot, they were very good natured about it all. Still, I could have potentially been shot. Bottom line: get permission and tap trees in a woodland, hedgerow, open fields or your own garden.
Photos: by Richard Cobelli
Apart from playing at daft games to explore the negative consequences of not getting permission, I have always wondered if sap can be obtained from London Plane trees, after all, the tree, Platanus x hispanica, is thought to be a hybrid of the Oriental Plane/Old World Sycamore Platanus orientalis and the American Sycamore Platanus occidentalis, and at least the latter is said to produce an edible sap. So far, I’ve not succeeded in getting any sap from this tree, but would love to hear from anybody who has had success in obtaining it. I can tell you though, that the very young spring leaves are great candied in maple syrup.
The All Important Question:
Why bother tapping trees for sap in the first place?
This is a question I’m frequently asked, quite often by people who have tried and have been disappointed that what drips from the tree tastes pretty much like water, not the sweet ambrosial nectar they had expected. Well, it’s a reasonable question I suppose. There are as many possible answers to this as there are theroies on the precise mechanisms that allow the sap to ride in the first place (this 34-page article makes interesting reading if you’ve ever puzzled over that question)………..
|23rd March 2012. 6.30am, 0 °C brrrrrrr!
Doing it the old way (drilling). Now I much prefer the less invasive method of tapping the end of a branch, as below. Details HERE.
……or, below, 10th March 2017, 12 °C
In the Ukraine and parts of Russia the sap is collected and sold as a type of mineral water, so they clearly value it. A fantastic, easy to make and reliable white wine can be made with a very distinct and pleasant taste, as well as beer, vinegar (see recipe at the end) and a rich caramel and molasses-like syrup. But, above all else, as with all foraging, it provides an excuse and opportunity to arrange your life according to the cycles of nature rather than the oppressive dictates of work routines and the terrible tick-tock tyranny of clock time or even traditional calendars. Each year I try to refine my understanding of when the sap flow begins and when it’s in full swing. This year it begun a day before the spring equinox, 5 days after reports that frogspawn was appearing in local ponds, and two days before the wood ants began to awake from winter slumber as they amassed to form new colonies. This is the realm of magic, awareness, and attunement, connecting with life, poetry and mystery, and clocks serve no purpose!
The sap then, which is actually about 95% + water, minerals and a little sugar, can be evapourated off to make a sublimely delicious if somewhat energy intensive syrup – it is the absolutely perfect accompaniment to elderflower fritters. In fact, the only near equivalent you can buy in this country is maple syrup. That is commercially viable because the ratio of sap required for a litre of syrup is 30:1, whereas for birch it is between 80 and 120:1 (I usually find that a 95:1 ratio is perfect for a rich dark and delightfully complexed flavoured syrup, whereas a 60:1 or 70:1 ratio makes for a satisfying and delicious but lighter syrup). But don’t let that put you off. Once you’ve tasted birch sap syrup, the effort required to make it will seem more than worthwhile. For those who are unconvinced there are several other excellent uses for the sap once collected as I’ll explain below, as well as various birch-related bushcraft skills to practice while the sap is simmering. First, though, how exactly is it obtained? There are several possible collection methods; here are just a couple.
Methods Of Sap Collection
Drilling into The Main Trunk And Using A Spile Or Plastic Tubing
I’ll describe this way first as it’s the most common practice, one one I followed for many years, but would encourage you to try the branch method as described later.
Between the end of Feb and mid-April when temperatures are usually between 0 and 15 °C – but especially in the second half of March, take a metre length of 0.5-1cm diametre plastic tubing or a spile (metal or plastic, although some people recommend non-metalic spiles for birch sap collection), a 2 or 4 litre plastic bottle (keep spare tops to put on the bottles when returning to pick up the sap – or just return with a large container), a drill with drill bit the same diametre as the plastic tubing or compatable with your spile diametre, a piece of tissue or cotton wool, a lump of plasticine (modeling clay) or natural clay, a wooden bung and a hammer. Select a suitably sized, well-established, and healthy looking tree (unhealthy trees don’t take so kindly to having more pressure put on them by the likes of me or you drilling a hole in them or cutting their branches!) – at least 8-10 inches across. Also, especially if in a woodland with lots of birch jostling for space and light, go for the trees with the largest crown of branches. These will have the best sap flow. Before continuing, let’s look at some examples of both trees that are suitable for tapping and ones that aren’t:
A birch oozing a mixture of resin and sap, best left to heal. Why do trees bleed?
The tree below looked very promising, a good size with an impressive crown. But what’s that weird growth? Bizarrly this looks very much like a young Amanita muscaria or Fly Agaric mushroom, often associated with birch, but not so often in this strange and mysterious way. Too wonderfully peculiar to tap! The last one had a great crown, but with that many (genuine) fungi growing on it is probably dead or dying.
And the following tree. Two days ago it was standing tall in the forest, but today it has fallen and is oozing sap at the break, but let’s look a little closer, the signs that it was not a healthy tree are there….
The above tree, in fact, is very unlikely to live, and is in an area where it is likely to be cleared away, so a prime candidate for making richly coloured, aromatic, and bitter inner bark flour. For a unique flavour, this can be added in small quantities to regular flour when baking.
What about these? No, way too young and small……
But, all hail the perfect Silver Birch and Paper Birch…..
To continue……. Mark a spot 2-3 feet up from the tree’s base. (In fact, you can tape a collecting vessel to the main trunk 15 foot up the tree if you don’t want it to be disturbed – useful if the trees are in an urban environment where your collection set-up might be tampered with lower down).
With the drill bit angled about 30 ˚ up from the horizontal (although straight in is fine too), drill a clean hole about 3-4 cms deep into the tree. Blow out bits of debris (close your eyes!). Liquid should drip from the hole within 10-20 seconds at the rate of 4 or more drops per second at the peak of sap flow. If not, hammer in a wooden bung or piece of clay and try another tree. Push one end of the plastic tubing 1-2 cms into the hole so that it is held firmly in place. Place the other end into the collecting bottle, far enough in so that it can’t slip out. Gently pack tissue or cotton wool around the tube at the neck end of the bottle, allowing the air to escape as the bottle fills with sap and to prevent insects from getting in (you can just cut or melt holes into the top of plastic lids – but make sure it isn’t a completely tight fit as you need to allow air to escape from the bottle as it fills up). If using a spile, push and twist to firmly set it in the tree. Make sure it is a tight fit, and that it is pushed in beyond the small round hole they have towards the narrow tapering end.
Scoop out a handful or two of soil at the base of the tree and place the bottle in the shallow hole created to prevent it falling over if using tubing, or if using a spile hang the bottle from the hook. As a precaution, to prevent any leakage, you can roll out and press a small piece of plasticine or clay around the tube or spile to make a perfect seal with the tree trunk.
Leave for 12-48 hours, after which time the bottle will most likely be brimming with sap. Alternatively, you can use a small length of tubing or a small elder stick after clearing out the soft central pith, make your own spile,and allow the sap to drip freely into a collecting vessel such as a demijohn – preferably using a muslin covered funnel to direct the liquid and prevent insects falling in. In woods where there are wood ants, the ants will amass around any exposed sap. Finally, plug up the hole to prevent infection of the tree, particularly from fungal spores. Hammer in a hard wood bung, firm piece of cork cut to size, some clay or, as a temporary measure, a piece of plasticine. Whatever I use, I always line it with fresh cherry resin. Resin production is a tree’s healing response to mechanical damage so is worth using. It also makes for a really good seal. At this point it is certainly worth drawing your attention to the ‘to plug or not to plug’ debate going on right now, with some evidence suggesting that using a bung or plug may in itself disrupt the trees ability to heal itself or trap spores and microbes, leading to infection. Follow this link for an article exploring these issues that, helpfully, also documents (apparent) ‘best practice’ Some impacts to paper birch trees tapped for sap harvesting in Alaska
If in doubt, ask the tree.
If in doubt about asking the tree
Use your intuition.
If in doubt about using your intuition
Read (and apply the techniques) described in
Craig Holdrege’s Thinking Like a Plant
and Nathaniel Hughes and Fiona Owen’s sublime
In the past I have generally taken no more than about 8 litres per tree (when drilling), and only tap the same tree on alternate years. Nevertheless, some people will tap continuously from one tree throughout its entire period of sap flow, but only return to that tree every 4-5 years; others take 5 litres and return every year to the same trees. These days I always collect sap from the end of the branch. I asked the trees, it’s what they prefer.
|A great drill, but often hard to see when I put it down among the forest floor leaves!
Perhaps time to forget the use of a drill altogether?
Tapping The End Of A Single Branch Or Multiple Branches On The Same Tree
Perhaps the best practice is to abandon hole drilling altogether. At the hight of sap flow, from a mature healthy tree with a large crown, a single branch cut towards the end where the diameter is approximately 1 cm across, can yield up to 1 1/2 litres of sap in 24 hrs if a piece of tubing is tightly fitted over the end and run down into a bottle. 4 or more tubes running from different branches on the same tree can collectively yield more than a single drill hole in the same time. In addition, these can be cleaned with boiling water and birch tar ‘n wax sealed. Even without the clean and seal, it seems possible, if not probable, that this more gentle and less invasive method is likely to be less harmful to the tree than hole drilling.
Naturally occurring branch collars at the point where branches change direction, are a way trees partition off, compartmentalise and isolate infection. There can be many branch collars between where you cut for sap – and the main trunk. Which means many defence barriers against disease:
“When woody plants naturally shed branches because those branches are nonproductive, usually from lack of light reaching them, these lower branches typically die back to the branch collar. Insects and fungi decompose the dead branch, and it eventually falls off, leaving the exposed end of the branch at the point of its attachment at the branch collar. This arrangement helps to resist the spread of decay organisms into the parent stem or trunk during the time it takes for the increment growth of the trunk to seal over the dead branch stub.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Branch_collar
These fantastic trees in my garden produce about 6 litres of sap every 24 hours into the 4 2 litre bottles I’ve attached. Looking about the ground below, one can see the brances that the tree has naturally disgarded are the same size, if not larger in diametre, than the ones I’m cutting.
If you do, however, feel peturbed about leaving a branch dripping after sap collection, you can always try and seal the cut.
Birch bark tar making, wound sealing, and King Canute-style holding back the relentless sap tide.
Collect lots of birch bark from well rotted fallen trunks. Stuff tightly in a large round (see picture) in a cake/biscuit tin that you’ve made a hole in (use a nail and hammer – hammering from the inside so direction of hole directed outwards). Fit the lid on tightly. Dig a hole to snuggley fit a tin can in. Place cake tin on top. Make a fire on top of this and burn for 2 hours. This will dry distill the
tar/oil/pitch out of the bark. Remove the tin from the hole and place on hot embers to boil and reduce the tar by half the volume. Note: the jar of oil below is floating on water that was also in the can. That’s because the bark was damp. If fully dried first there will be no water.
I made a clean fresh cut 6 inches back from the original cut, sterilized with freshly boiled water and brushed on the thick tar.
The above attempts to seal exposed branches with tar were my attempt to honour the tree by going through a process requiring dedication and best intentions. In practice, my optimism proved somewhat naive. Sap flow is powerful and is very hard to stop! In the end I had to combine traditional and modern materials. Two methods that worked to stop sap flow 8 out of 10 times: Moulding a piece of tar (consistency of cold chewing gum) into a piece of modelling clay, and pressing tightly on the branch (tar on its own only worked to stop the flow 2 out of 10 times), or mixing the tar (when still hot) with wax. More experimentation required……………..
Finely, before moving on to working with the collected sap, here are a few other interesting tapping techniques from around the web. Personally, I prefer the branch collection method now, but at least the following demonstrate an impressive (but not difficult) degree of skill and a willingness to work with natural materials:
Ray Mears (collecting sap for his mint ice cubes to go in his single malt)! Similar technique to Alexanders.
Lonnie of Far North Bushcraft’s green willow tap, creating a central hollow using just his knife.
What to do with freshly collected sap?
Unless you intend to use the sap for cooking or drinking immediately, refrigerate and use within 2-3 days. If you decide to tap one tree throughout its sap rise, empty out the collecting bottle within 48 hours (at the latest – after 24 hrs if the temp is above 10 °C) of tapping or when your collecting bottle is full – whichever occurs first. If you leave the container over 2 days before collecting, the natural yeasts present may already have stated to ferment the sap, using up what little sugar there is, giving rise to off flavours – these become intensified when reduced down during syrup production and are to be avoided. Note: if you want to transport large quantities of sap, I recommend scrounging several of those large 18 L capacity mineral water bottles seen in offices. These are also excellent for wine making.
Boil the sap until it is thick and dark, barely simmering at the final stages to prevent the disaster of burning. Indeed, at the latter stages the pan should be just on hot embers – no direct flame). Indeed, once the volume of sap is reduced from 95 to about 5 litres, I usually transfer the syrup to a new pan and place indoors on the hob at the lowest flame setting – not even simmering. Also, unless you want to deep steam clean your kitchen or make the wallpaper peel off, this is definitely a job to do most of outside, although you’ll just about get away with it indoors if only boiling down small batches of 5-10 litres. Alternatively, ask a friendly baker if you can place a large metal tray of sap on top of his bread oven to slowly evaporate. Taste repeatedly as you concentrate the sap to reach your required degree of sweetness. It is inevitable that the sugars will partially caramelize, that however is just an integral part of the flavour (in the absence of expensive industrial machinery to produce the syrup using reverse osmosis), or unless you are able to keep pans of sap gently evaporating for a week or more at a temperature just below what would course the sap to simmer (such as the cooler ovens in a four-oven aga). If concerned about burning there is no need to reduce 95 L sap to 1 L of syrup. The ratio of between 50:1 and 80:1 also makes for a gorgeous but lighter and runnier golden brown syrup, very much like maple syrup. Having said that, in order to get the birch equivalent of maple syrup, a combination of slow evaporation without simmering (or very gentle simmering) and freeze-distillation works best.
I find it too impractical to freeze-distil neat sap, but find that it works after you have gently reduced the sap to approximately a 30 or 40:1 ratio. At that point, cool and freeze solid in a contain from which the frozen syrup can be easily slid out. Half remove the ice/syrup block and skewer it in an elevated position so that the more concentrated sugary sap can drip down to leave the ice above. You can also embed a piece of string in the ice so you can hang it up. Simpler still, tip out the frozen block into a fine cloth and string it up. What ever the technique, only allow about 75% of the ice and syrup mix to melt. At that point, what’s left in the cloth or skewered will be mostly water and can be disgarded. The pictures below makes this much clearer.
|Evapourating off the water and removing scum.|
It can take 4-5 hours or more to make a litre of syrup. That time, however, presents a real opportunity. You can collect birch bark for fire lighting, collect birch polypores for making razor strops, paper, shoes or, best of all, you can make birch tar (as described above). Talented bushcrafter Jonathan Ridgeon’s excellent no nonsense online tutorial is also worth reading for more detail:
Or how about collecting some bark and making a simple birch bark and spruce root basket: Perfect for collecting the stunningly impressive Scarlet Elfcup fungi that are still in season now.
The syrup at 70 or 90:1 reducion ratio should keep in a clean jar without refrigeration or for a week or two in the fridge at lower concentrations. For long-term non-refrigerated storage really one needs to ensure that the sugar concentration is 1333 kg/m3, the proper density, which corresponds to at least 66% sugar. To test this you can use a hydrometre. If uncertain, and you don’t have a hydrometer, then you can simple reduce the syrup to the strength you like, allow it o cool, then pour into clean bottles. Seal with a screw on lid (not a fliptop one), and either place on a trivet in a pan of cold water and bring to the boil, or stand in a small dish and place in a cold oven, then heat to 100 degrees celcius. It should’t crack that way, and if it does the precaustion of standing the jar in a small bowl should save the day.
If you have lots of birch syrup you could reduce it down very carfully even further to, approximately, a 1:200 raw sap to syrup ratio. At that point, of course, it’s not exactly a syrup by conventional standards but, instead, a lushiously rich, intense and wonderfully complex flavoured black treakle and blackstrap mollasses-like concoction. This is wonderful as a meat glaze or for use in bread making (below), as well as many other uses.
Or you could take your surplus of regular strength syrup and infuse it with all sorts of medicinal botanicals (you could do this with the mead as well of course). I’ve not tried this but feel inspired to give it a go after seeing an instagram post by Wildfoodlove and Anja from Fat of The Land. They mentioned: “Wild mushroom infused maple syrup with chaga, liond’s mane, turkey tail, reishe and birch polypore mushrooms decocted together in maple sap for hours over a wood fire to slowly transform into a super infused medicinal maple syrup”. And: “Wild roots infused maple syrup with dandelion root, burdock, sassafras and black birch. Anja collected the maple sap near her home in the Catskill Mountains, and then she infused it with the wild roots and bark as the sap slowly evapourated over the course of many hours.”
You could also try making birch sugar or, at least, birch caramel sugar.
Nevertheless, if syrup or sugar making still seems too much trouble use the sap to make a lovely refreshing wine instead. It’s easy and is definitely not a second best alternative. Start by making a high alcohol tolerant wine yeast starter culture. For this, simply follow the instructions on a packet of wine yeast – usually this involves adding a teaspoon of yeast and sugar to about 3 fl oz of boiled and cooled water that is then shaking in a clean sterilized bottle. The top is loosely fitted on and the bottle left in a warm place for about four hours or until the yeast becomes active – you’ll notice bubbles rising and a little froth forming on top. Next, sterilize 2 demijohns, 2 rubber bungs, 2 air-locks and 1 plastic funnel – the products used for cleaning babies’ bottles are fine for this purpose. Put 8 pints of sap and 1kg of sugar into a large pan and bring to the boil stirring in all the sugar. Add the juice of 1 lemon and 1 teaspoon of yeast nutrient. Empty and rinse the sterilized demijohns with boiled (but cooled slightly) water. Divide the sap equally between the 2 demijohns, pouring in using the sterilized plastic funnel. Allow to become luke warm before adding the yeast starter culture and fit bungs and air-locks. Leave in an airing cupboard for 5 days before transferring all the sap into just one of the demijohns. Ferment until no bubbles appear in the air-lock (2-3 months).
|Birch sap wine in demijohn and glass (2013). Spoons showing commercially produced maple syrup (left) and birch syrup (right).|
Birch sap or birch and sycamore sap syrup ‘mead’ is made without honey. It first requires reducing 2o gallons of sap down to 1, or thereabouts, to get a suitable sugar content. You can then proceed in a similar manner to the birch sap wine recipe above.
The seven sap syrup shown above was so delicious it inspired a tongue twister. Try to say this repeatedly and fast whether after a glass or two or birch sap wine or completely sober. It’s not easy!
For a superior taste sensation savour some shared seriously sensual sips of some sustainably sourced sweetly sumptuous seven sap syrup!
The sparkling birch syrup kefir is wonderful and relatively easy to make. I purchased some organic live water kefir grains online relatively cheaply. Boil 5 litres of sap down to about half a litre. Once cooled pour into a swing top bottle, add the kefir grains, and leave (closed) in a warm place for 3-4 days. I left it on a shelf above the aga. The result was a delicious fizzy explosion, so be careful when opening the bottle.
If you’re feeling both naughty and adventurous you could also get hold of an old-style basic pressure cooker, a siphoning tube, a bucket of cold water and a demijohn to distil your birch sap wine to make birch sap moonshine. That could then be used for Russian-style preservation of gorgeous chanterelle fungi, gathered from around the same birch trees you have tapped. Of course, it would be illegal so I must advise against it. I just said “you could”, not “you should”. In 2016, what was purported to be the world’s first spirit made from birch sap went on sale. Well, I can definitely tell you it was not the first, but it has a great name, Freya (the Norse goddess associated with love, sex, fertility). Indeed ‘fresh’ birch sap is being sold and promoted by a number of companies in the UK, and there is even an online UK provider of Ukrainian birch sap syrup. It is a£14 for 250 ml, which is over twice the price of maple syrup. It does take a lot of work, and that is reflected in the price. Here is a great article about the syrup production methods of an Alaskan birch syrup maker. There is lots to learn here, most notably the attention paid to keeping equipment and tools as clean as possible. Pour yourself a birch sap syrup based cocktail and have a read. Such wild ingredient based cocktails are all the rage now: Making Wild Cocktails with William Grant and lots of talented baristas. Others are experimenting too…..
|Chanterelles preserved in alcohol (birch spirit..perhaps)?|
Finally, you’ve decided you’d like to try out some of the suggestions above but, your’re in the South East of England it’s 1st April, you’ve drilled a hole and are standing there feeling like a true April fool because not a drop of sap is flowing out, or it is but the quantity is meagre. As a result you have left the botthles out for two days and what has collected is all cloudy with yeast. Don’t worry, the sap rise is over. The leaf buds are swollen and bursting into life. Excellent! The young tender leaves are good for tea (would be a good experiment to ferment them in the way true tea leaves are) and excellent as a mild bulk salad leaf. But don’t miss this opportunity either as the leaves only stay tender for about 2 weeks! However…..back to that yeastiness:
|2 litre capacity vinegar aging barrel|
Ingredients (makes approx1.5 L) 190 L fresh birch sap 1 sachet high alcohol tolerant wine yeast Method Boil the birch sap down to 4 L. Place half of this i.e. 2 L into a sauce pan and carefully (on lowish heat) very gently simmer, reducing down to 1 litre. Pour half of this into a wooden barrel and leave for 4 months; pour the other half into a sterilized glass bottle and seal. Place the other 2 L in a sterilized 1 gallon demijohn. When warm or cooled sprinkle on the yeast (or use wild yeast cultures if desired). Fit an air lock, place in a warm cupboard, and ferment until no bubbles appear in the air lock (approx 4 months). Uncover and expose to the air and fruit flies for a few days. Then cover with muslin and allow to turn to vinegar. This takes about 2 months. Pour vinegar into wooden barrel to add to the syrup already in there. Age for 25 years, transferring the vinegar to a smaller barrel of a different and suitable wood variety every 5 years. Finally, ballance the sweetness and acidity by adding some of the bottled and pasturised syrup.. Confession (you probably realize this already!): I’ve not done this, at least not completely. I have followed this recipe and aged the vinegar for 3 years. I’ve also experimented by just letting pure sap ferment (I say ‘experiment’, but actually it was a mistake as I’d not sterilized the bottles well enough. But, of course, there are no mistakes! It made me realize that it was worth exploring as vinegar and, in particular, a balsamic style vinegar). The flavour of that spontaneously fermented sap is different from wine that has been turned to vinegar, hence the different stages in the recipe. This recipe is the nearest I’ve managed to get to something approximating balsamic vinegar using only wild ingredients. It tastes good, but would be fun to age some for the length that Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale is aged………… One final thought………… Do keep your eyes peeled for Birch Polypore fungi, also known as Razor Strop Fungi, as you are bound to come across them when you’re out looking for suitable birch trees to tap. These can be found on dead standing trees or on toppled trunks and fallen branches. Of course you can make razor or knife strops with these, but far more fun in my opinion is to use them to make paper. Be careful not to have the fungi knocking about in your bag with your drill. It will get contaminated with spores and you may end up infecting previously healthy trees!
|A good crop of Piptoporus betulinus|
|Underside showing the pores|
|Dried, scaped and vacuum sealed Birch Polypore|
Many other common rubbery textured fungi can be used to make paper too. A short tutorial video on how to do this will be here shortly.
Apart from writing, drawing and painting on birch polypore paper, you can do countless other paper crafts with it, including oiling it to make lampshades and shadow puppets, or even Japanses-style umbrellas. Below are pictures from an early morning play at sunrise with tumeric cloured and oiled birch polypore paper.
Whilst out and about around the birches, look that most magical of fungi, the Green Elfcup, or at least it’s green mycelium penetrated birch and oak wood.
Finally, why not combing green elfcup wood and mushroom paper:
This book is also wonderful for birch craft inspiration: