Last night, we attended a Sugar on Snow Supper at the Congregational Church in West Bratt with Chuck and Mary. We were told that Mary is a connoisseur of these events, and so we had a skilled guide.

We sat at a big communal table and enjoyed a generously served dinner of ham, baked beans, cole slaw and potato salad before moving on to the main attraction. We got big paper bowls filled with shaved ice (they ain’t no snow on the ground in Brattleboro this week), and pitchers of hot, extra-thick mpale syrup. You drizzle some syrup on the ice and let it freeze into a kind of taffy-like paste. You eat it with a fork, and somehow the cold ice makes it seem not quite so sweet.

Totally yummy. We ate and ate and ate, more dinner, more syrup, and also donuts and coffee. Great conversation, great reminiscences about suppers past, and the sugar house in the old days, and it was great.

With that ritual out of the way, we’re only two generations away from being real Vermonters…

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