IT'S SYRUP MAKING TIME NEAR CRUMP

RoseLee Nussbaum checks the purity of maple syrup.

Rudy Nussbaum checks taps on a sugar maple tree.

The wind whistles and rattles in the tree limbs overhead as a man walks into the woods, his breath turning to frost in the cold air. Throughout the hollow are buckets resting under dripping tubes driven into the sides of maple trees. The man collects the sap from these buckets as nearby, a women works to stir and strain the contents of a cauldron shrouded in steam and wood smoke.

A Currier and Ives depiction of winter in Vermont? Hardly. This scene takes place almost daily in the early months of the year right here in Southeast Missouri on the Crump area farm of Rudy and Rosalee Nussbaum.

The farm they own is blessed with a wealth of sugar maple trees and the couple have been taking advantage of that blessing since the early 1980s, when they and their three children first attempted a batch of real maple syrup for a 4-H project in the early 1980s.

"Our children were always into learning things," said Mrs. Nussbaum. "They were involved in forestry projects in 4-H and wanted to try to make maple syrup."

It seemed like a fun project for the family. Mrs. Nussbaum's father often made the syrup when she was a child so she was vaguely familiar with the process. More importantly, the woods surrounding the pastures and barnyard of the Nussbaum farm hold a number of sugar maple trees so they didn't have to travel much farther than behind the barn to find a steady supply of maple sap.

Besides, the Nussbaums were never ones to shy away from such home projects. Cheese making is one of those "used to" projects, said Mrs. Nussbaum. Currently, the two raise shitake mushrooms, a gourmet delicacy, on specially-prepared logs in a sheltered glade behind their home.

The family's first attempt at syrup making was not very successful, said Rudy Nussbaum, but it challenged the family to do better in successive attempts.

The first batch of sap the family boiled down fell victim to Sunday morning inattention and boiled dry in a pan on the kitchen stove.

However, experience gave rise to better and better grades of syrup and though Mark, Martha and Mary Nussbaum have grown up and left their 4-H projects behind, their parents have carried on the tradition. As their experience grows, so too does the quality of their product.

The Nussbaums generally begin making their syrup in January, when conditions become right to make the sweet sap begin rising within the maple trees.

"It needs to freeze of a morning and thaw during the day to make the sap run good," Mr. Nussbaum explains. He doesn't know why the sap begins running well after a hard freeze just as he doesn't know why some of the trees produce more or sweeter sap than others. That's just the way it is.

The month of February is generally the best for syrup making as the temperatures are appropriate for making the sap flow and the days are long enough to get the work done. The days are too short in January and by March, temperatures may have risen enough to allow the growth of mold in the sap.

When the conditions are right, the trees surrounding the farmhouse begin a steady drip, drip, drip from the numerous rubber gas line hoses driven into their trunks. Some of the better sap-bearing trees sprout more than one hose.

"A lot of times you see in pictures where people have driven their taps up waist high but we drill ours down low so we won't ruin the timber value of the trees," he explained.

Below each of the taps is a white, five-gallon bucket to catch the precious sap. At least 48 gallons are needed to yield just one gallon of good quality maple syrup.

Once enough sap is gathered, the Nussbaums build a fire and begin "bowling down," or reducing, the liquid.

"When we first started making maple syrup, we would bowl it down in big butcher's kettles which is what many used," said Mrs. Nussbaum, referring to the large, roundish black iron cauldrons now found in antique shops. "When you do that, you get a darker product because of the syrup getting on the sides of the kettle and caramelizing and from the smoke mixing in with the syrup.

"In 1991, though, we bought a sheep tank and built a furnace and began cooking it down with that," she said, explaining that the high, straight sides of the galvanized sheep watering tank do not allow as much smoke to mix in with the boiling sap making for a clearer, more pure syrup.

"We feel like we get a better product with that," she said. "We have a friend who was raised on the dark syrup and he likes that kind better."

Throughout this reduction process, which takes place out in the barnyard, the sap is strained several times. After the liquid has been boiled down to a manageable level, it is poured out into five-gallon, stainless steel milk cans and brought inside. Here, it is poured into a kitchen pan and reduced even further, concentrating the maple taste.

During this inside process, the syrup is strained several more times. Eventually, it is poured through pieces of flannel to remove what is called "niter" or "wood sugar" -- wood fibers remaining from the time the sap was held inside the tree.

When the impurities have been removed and the liquid has reached the 220 degrees Fahrenheit needed to kill bacteria, the 100 percent pure maple syrup is canned in jars.

The final product is well worth the hard work, said Mrs. Nussbaum, who explained that most commercially-produced pancake syrups only contain about 3 percent maple syrup.

"It leaves a funny wang inside your mouth," Mrs. Nussbaum said of commercial syrups.

With a new supply being made each year, the Nussbaum children were spoiled on the sweet concoction.

"One time our younger child had gone to spend the night with a friend and when she came back, we could tell that she was upset," explained Mrs. Nussbaum. "I asked her why and she said, 'The pancakes weren't fluffy and then we had to eat bought syrup.'"

Like the shitake mushrooms, the jars of maple syrup are now what Mrs. Nussbaum terms "give aways." Neighbors and friends are generally the benefactors of the couple's industrious nature, although some of the produce is donated to their church to help raise funds for Lutheran seminaries.

Real maple syrup can be a bit strong for those not used to it, so friends are often advised to cut it with white corn syrup, says Mr. Nussbaum.

A little of the syrup finds its way to the marketplace, however, at the price of $10 a quart, considerably less than the market price for real maple syrup in other parts of the country.