I am happy to share a recent article I wrote on the origins and unique history of the use of a round metal can for packing maple syrup in the province of Québec. Unlike the United States and most other Canadian provinces, where syrup was packed in rectangular shaped metal cans for many years, in Québec the use of a round can was introduced in the 1950s and has continued to be used ever since, eventually becoming an iconic cultural symbol identifed with Québec.
The article was published by Fédération Histoire Québec in Volume 30, Number 1 of their imagazine Historie Québec. As an article focused on a decidely Québecois topic, this article is written in French. You can download a PDF copy of the article at this link or by clicking on the image or the article above. Or you can view each of the three individual pages of the article below.
A great new, handsomely illustrated book has been published documenting maple syrup and sugar making as was carried out in Québec in years past. Titled, La route des sucriers: Quand on faissit les sucres en noir et blanc au Quebec, this paperback book is entirely in French and is the work of noted maple historian and sugarmaker Jean-Roch Morin, who hails from Saint-Zacharie, Québec. At 240 pages in length, La route des sucriers contains around two hundred rarely or never before published black and white photographs of maple sugaring related scenes. The images date from the late 1800s through the 1990s, with the majority dating to the first half of the 20th century.
I cannot emphasize enough my feeling that readers should not be intimidated by the book being in French. With the convenience of translation apps on our mobile devices and computers, it is quite simple to open the door to an entire world of maple history publications from Québec written in French, with this book as a wonderful place to start.
Sample pages from “La route des sucriers.”
The format of the book is one image per page with accompanying descriptive and contextual text. The book is divided into six different chapters by covering the sugarhouse and the syrup maker, preparing for the season, gathering maple sap, making sugar and syrup, maple parties, and the end of the sugaring season. A nice feature of the book is a glossary of words related to syrup and sugar making gathered and defined by the author. Of course, the glossary is in French, but it always helpful to see and document the unique language of maple production.
Sample pages from “La route des sucriers.”
This is the second maple history related book written by Jean-Roch Morin, with his first book being published in 2016 jointly in French and English with the title, Spouts, Patents and Sugar-Making Objects from Yesteryear. This book is published byLes Editions Conifére, a new and energetic publishing company out of Québec City that is interested in expanding their portfolio to include additional titles that share Québec and maple industry history.
Sample pages from “La route des sucriers.”
In researching this book, Jean-Roch Morin spent many years visiting local historical societies, museums, libraries, and private collections across the Beauce region of Québec discovering previously unpublished and unknown photographs of maple sugaring activities in years past. The focus of the locations of the scenes in the images is primarily the Beauce region, but most of the scenes depicted could have been anywhere in the maple syrup producing region of Canada and the United States. Many of the scenes depicted are candid, unposed action scenes, taken in the moment in the sugarbush and at the sugar house. These are especially important in their capturing a moment in time, both from the technological and historical perspective but also in preserving the place and experiences of individuals and community of sugaring.
Sample pages from “La route des sucriers.”
I have three personal favorites from the book: the photos that show the end of the year sap pail washing and drying, the photos showing the important use of horses and even dogs for pulling sap gathering sleds and tanks, and the photos of the sugar on snow gatherings at the sugarhouses.
Sample pages from “La route des sucriers.”
Maple sugar and syrup making was hard forest and farm work to be sure, but it was also a kind of work that was unique in how it was also a part of a larger sense of local identity and cultural connectedness of the community. That truth is well represented in the pictures and text of this book. One can almost hear the laughter in the scenes of revelry and cheer and sugar on snow parties along with the flirtatious tradition of smearing soot from the bottom of the evaporator pan on the clean faces of partiers, especially the ladies. Other photos portray the variety of construction elements in sugarhouse construction, emphasizing the vernacular nature of these structures. The history and evolution of the technology and tools of sugaring are both directly and implicitly displayed and discussed in the photos and text.
The book starts off with a pair of prefaces, one written by maple educators Stéphane Guay and Edith Bonneau, publishers of the website Érable & Chalumeaux; and a second preface by yours truly, Matthew Thomas.
Jean-Roch Morin, the author and connoisseur of maple flavored ice cream.
In all fairness and the spirit of full disclosure, Jean-Roch Morin is not only a professional colleague, but also a personal friend of mine. Therefore, I may be a bit biased, but I deeply enjoyed this book and am impressed with the effort that went into its creation. Jean-Roch Morin provides a short introductory chapter to set the stage for what he has assembled and described. In addition, the book also features a bibliography and lists of references that were important in researching and writing the book and directs readers where to go for more information.
Jean-Roch Morin with copy of “La route de sucieres” and his recently announced Lés Prix du Patrimoine award.
Jean-Roch Morin was recently awarded Lés Prix du Patrimoine by the MRC Etchemins for his efforts at cultural and historical interpretation and dissemination with the publication of this book. The MRC is one of fifteen regional administrative units of government in Québec and each MRC conducts a competition every two years to recognize the efforts and important works of its residents to protect and promote the heritage of the province. As an indication of his tireless and valuable work in preserving history, this was the fourth time in the last ten years that Mr. Morin has been awarded Lés Prix du Patrimoine!
I encourage maple history fans to add this book to their libraries and make the effort to translate the French text. The book is an important record of maple sugaring in the past. At the very least, it is easy to appreciate, study, and learn from the amazing array of photographs assembled in this book.
The book can be ordered online at the Conifére website for shipment to both the Canada and the United States. Go to this link at the Coniféresite to learn more. The cost of the book is listed as CAN$34.95 which equals about US$25.50, plus shipping costs.
Example of Old Colony Maple Syrup label from Quebec Maple Products, LTD, 1934 trademark registration.
In the history of maple syrup brand names, “Old Colony Syrup” was a label used for over one hundred years by as many as six different companies in both the United States and Canada. The Old Colony brand was first used in the early 1900s by two unrelated syrup blending companies in Chicago and Boston. The name was later used in Canada and the United States from the 1920s to the early 2000s, handed down through a series of related companies.
Printing block for Scudder’s Syrup Company’s Old Colony Syrup label (image reversed).
The earliest example of the use of the Old Colony was a blended cane and maple syrup from the Scudder Syrup Company of Chicago, Illinois. The Scudder Company offered a variety of brands of blended cane and maple syrup starting in 1894, with Old Colony Syrup first appearing around 1896. The Scudder Company was one of many syrup blending companies operating in Chicago at this time and the Old Colony brand was one of their minor labels compared to more widely sold Scudder’s Canada Sap Syrup and later Scudder’s Brownie Brand Syrup.
Undated paper label for Old Colony Brand Cane & Maple Syrup from Bay State Maple Syrup Company.
The next early example of the use of the Old Colony name as a syrup brand comes from the Bay State Maple Syrup Company owned by C.M. Tice, operating out of Boston, Massachusetts. Like with the Scudder Company, the use of Old Colony by the Bay State Company was a minor label among other more prominent and popular syrup brands, such as Verhampshire, Fleur-de Lys, Mount Washington, and Mount Mansfield syrups. Since research has only uncovered examples of the label and no dated advertisements or other references, there is little information on the Bay State Company’s use of the Old Colony name and what years it was in use. We do know that the Bay State Company was most active from around 1905 to 1920.
However, the most long-lived and significant use of the Old Colony brand for packaging maple syrup began in 1920 with the Canada Maple Products Company in Toronto, Ontario. Unlike the first two examples of Old Colony Syrup, which were blends of cane and maple syrup, the Old Colony Syrup of the Canadian Maple Products Company was 100% pure maple syrup.
Maples, LTD., advertisement for Lion Brand Pure Maple Syrup from Toronto Daily Star, March 19, 1912.
The Canadian Maple Products Company was a syrup packing and maple products company that began around 1911 under the name of Maples, LTD. Initially, the company sold pure maple syrup and maple butter under the name of Lion Brand, which was only available in Canadian markets. Beginning in 1915, they changed the name of the maple butter to “Old Tyme Maple Butter.”
Early advertisement from Canadian Maple Products, LTD, for Old Colony Maple Syrup – Canadian Grocer, December 16, 1921.
In 1920, the Thornton Huyck family purchased Maples, LTD. and changed the name to the Canadian Maple Products Company, LTD. At this time, the company introduced the name Old Colony syrup name along with a colorful label featuring a yellow background, blue bands, and a splash of red maple leaves.
Advertisement for Old Colony Maple Syrup and Old Tyme Maple Butter – Canadian Grocer. April 1,1921.
In 1929 Thornton Huyck sold Canadian Maple Products Company, LTD., and its Old Colony and Old Tyme brands to the Cary Maple Sugar Company from St. Johnsbury, Vermont. The Cary Company was undertaking a massive expansion in Vermont and Québec, buying smaller syrup companies and expanding their footprint across the region. One of the Cary Company’s efforts was the construction of a modern three-story plant in Lennoxville, Québec for the processing and bottling of maple sugar and maple syrup. In preparation for operating the Lennoxville plant, the Cary Company also acquired a number of other maple syrup businesses from the surrounding Eastern Townships region of Québec, including the Boright Brothers and the Jenne Maple Syrup and Sugar Company, both from Sutton, Québec. As part of their sale to the Cary Company, the Boright Brothers and the Jenne Company sold their syrup manufacturing and bottling equipment and shipped it to Lennoxville. In addition, both Robert M. Boright and Frank Jenne became managers and key employees of Cary’s new Lennoxville plant.
Three story Cary Maple Sugar Company plant in Lennoxville, Québec circa 1929.
The Cary Company’s rapid expansion became a factor in the firm becoming over extended, contributing to the Cary Company’s colossal failure and bankruptcy in 1931. With the Cary Company in the midst of a reorganization, Robert Boright was elevated from general plant manager to the role of President of the entire Cary Company in the United States and Canada. With Boright’s shift to President, Frank Jenne become the Lennoxville plant manager.
Colorful 1930s-era one gallon round can for Old Colony Pure Maple Syrup from Québec Maple Products, LTD.
After a year of year of overseeing the operations and getting the Cary Company back on its feet, Robert Boright resigned his position as President and in late 1932 started his own company called Québec Maple Products, LTD. Conveniently, the newly constructed Cary Company plant in Lennoxville was for sale, which Boright purchased along with the former Canadian Maple Products Company brands of Old Tyme and Old Colony Syrup, with Frank Jenne continuing on as plant manager and a minor partner to Boright.
Early Québec Maple Products, LTD. glass bottle for Old Colony Maple Syrup next to February 28, 1935 – Windsor Start advertisement.
Québec Maple Products, LTD. soon after was offering Old Colony maple syrup to Canadian customers in 16- and 32-ounce circular glass jars and one gallon size tall round cans. The earliest of Québec Maple Products’ Old Colony labels were based on Canadian Maple Products’ earlier Old Colony Syrup design, with the yellow background, red text, and red maple leaves.
1950s era one gallon can with a winter sugaring scene for Old Colony Maple Syrup from Québec Maple Products, LTD.
In 1935, Québec Maple Products, LTD. began its own expansion and formed a subsidiary firm in St. Albans, Vermont called American Maple Products Corporation. With this expansion, Frank Jenne moved from the Lennoxville plant to St. Albans to be the Vice President and general manager of US operations. With the expansion across the border, it was easier for Québec Maple Products, through American Maple Products, to access American markets and introduced the Old Colony brand to a new group of American customers.
Two 1950s examples of early label designs for Old Colony Maple Syrup from American Maple Products Corporation.
American Maple Products Corporation moved from St. Albans, to Newport, Vermont in 1940. Two years later in 1942, Jenne and Boright bought out one another’s interests in Québec Maple Products, LTD., and American Maple Products Corporation. Boright took sole ownership of Québec business and Jenne took over American Maple Products with both continuing to use the Old Colony brand with their separate companies.
American Maple Products Corporation’s Old Colony Maple Syrup label from the 1960s.
Under Jenne’s ownership and later that of his son-in-law Sherb Doubleday, American Maple Products Corporation expanded the company’s variety of maple products and introduced its own designs for its Old Colony labels and containers. Over the next 50 years American Maple Products redesigned its Old Colony label at least four times.
Two versions of American Maple Products Corporation’s Old Colony Maple Syrup labels from the 1970s and 1980s.
American Maple Products Corporation continued to sell syrup under the Old Colony brand into at least the 1980s. American Maple Products Corporation closed its doors in 1994 when Roger Ames, the son-in-law of Sherb Doubleday and owner of the company, was accused and pled guilty to selling syrup labeled as pure maple syrup when it had been adulterated with beet sugar syrup.
Example of advertisement and bottle design for Quebec Maple Products’ Old Tyme Syrup from October 30, 1958 – Windsor Star.
Boright continued as owner of Quebec Maple Products until 1958 when he sold his company to the Canada Starch Company, LTD., and its best Foods Canada Division, with Old Colony and Old Tyme syrups continuing as the company brands. Best Foods was sold to Unilevel Company in 2000 and Unilevel sold the Old Colony and Old Tyme brands to ACH Foods in 2002. Old Colony Syrup continued to be available in Canadian markets until at least 2004 and their blended Old Tyme Pancake Syrup until around 2015.
I recently took a research trip to Québec and while on that trip was pleased to discover a new maple history book published earlier this year by author Maxime Caouette. Written entirely in French, the book is titled, Histoire Acéricole: Anecdotes, Procédés techniques, Chalumeaux, which roughly translates in English to Maple Sugaring History: Anecdotes – Technology – Spouts. However, for those looking for an easy to read, yet comprehensive look at the highlights of maple sugaring history in Québec, I recommend getting a copy of this book and using the power of Google Translate or some other translation app to assist you in reading this book.
Overall, this is a book that recounts the general history of the maple syrup industry and the evolution of the process of making maple syrup. Since Maxime is a Québecois author, the book rightly focuses on what he knows best and what is closest to him, maple sugaring in Québec. It also highlights areas of maple history that are of special interest to Maxime, like vintage syrup cans and maple spout technology. The book also presents some of Maxime’s more personal connections to maple sugaring with anecdotes and stories shared with Maxime by his grandfather. Since discovering this book, I reached out to Maxime, who is bilingual and equally comfortable with French and English, and I have enjoyed a wide variety of conversations on maple history where we have each shared research and learned from one another.
Author Maxime Caouette.
As his photo shows, Maxime Caouette is a young man, but his age belies his knowledge and passion for maple history which has been passed down in his family. He may be young, but he has done his homework, and moreover continues to explore and expand the breadth of his knowledge of maple history. On his father’s side he is a fifth-generation maple syrup maker and was raised in Lévis, Québec. He has completed advanced studies in agriculture and is currently employed with a maple equipment manufacturing company. While always interested in maple history and hearing stories from his grandfather, his focus and research efforts increased while undertaking his agricultural studies, leading to a desire to assemble what he had gathered and learned in this book.
Example of the fine illustrations in Histoire Acéricole.
At 183 pages, this softcover book is not massive in its presentation, but in my opinion it is the single most current and up to date volume that covers the breadth of maple history, both in the early years, but more importantly the last century. What I like about Maxime’s book is that it is easy to read and well organized, and is nicely illustrated with both color and black and white images. Moreover, it covers the highlights of what I consider to be some of the most important themes, events and developments in the 20th century maple industry in Canada and the United States.
I especially like this book because in telling the story of maple sugaring in Québec, it covers the topics that interest me most. It struck me that this is the sort of book I might write and contains the sort of information that I might include. Perhaps my fondness for the book stems from the fact that in researching and writing the book, Maxime regularly consulted many of the posts and historical research shared on this website. What’s not to love about that!
The book features abundant color photographs and a clear, well-organized layout.
Like all good overviews of maple history, Maxime covers the topic of the origins of maple sugaring and the role of Indigenous peoples in bringing maple sugaring to the world. But more importantly, the book is about all aspects of the maple industry, past and present, including explaining how maple syrup is made today. Maxime does a great job of breaking the process down into its many steps and then focusing on each step to talk about the evolution of the tools and technology that were used. Although the primary focus is on the history of maple sugaring, Maxime’s volume does what most books focused on the history of maple sugaring technology do not do, and that is he combines the past processes with a clear presentation and explanation of the modern methods and technology.
The book includes a presentation of the evolution of the maple sap tap from its wood to its various metal shapes and designs, on to today’s plastic spouts. Maxime shares a detailed listing and evolution of plastic spouts for use with plastic tubing, something not found in other books dedicated to the history of early metal and wood spouts.
Pages from the section on the evolution and variety of the more modern spouts specifically designed for use with plastic tubing.
Maxime also includes a glossary of maple sugaring terms (in French), an inventory of the major maple equipment manufacturing companies (Canadian and US), and presents a timeline of events important in maple history, which as one would expect, is uniquely Québec-centric and notably different that the timelines that are commonly shared in the United States. Besides being a great educational tool, this is a wonderful reminder of the biases in the histories told in each of our countries and the need to work hard to ignore and remove the border as a barrier to studying and learning about North America’s entire history of maple sugaring.
As was stated at the beginning of this post, this book is entirely written in French, but I would not let that be a deterrent to the interested reader. Pull out your mobile phone and open the camera function in the Google Translate App and use that tool to translate the French to English. Sure, it can be cumbersome, but it is worth the effort in my opinion.
Image of the home page of the Histoire Acéricole website.
In addition to his book, Maxime has created an interesting website to both promote the book but also to share additional photos and information about such topics as vintage Québec syrup cans and a collection of historic advertisements for maple syrup equipment companies.
The book was published by Lac Plume D’Oie Edition, a small Québec based vanity press, but all orders for copies at this time are made through the author. The book can be purchased by contacting Maxime Caouette in Québec through the contact form on his website: www.histoireacericole.wixsite.com/website. The book is listed for CAD$30.00 and payment for shipment to addresses in the United States will be at the expense of the purchaser.
Dr. Patrick Charbonneau is a Montréal-born professor of chemistry at Duke University and a historian of the maple sugar confection known as sucre à la crème, or maple cream (candy). Maple Syrup History website creator Matthew Thomas (MT) recently had the pleasure of conducting the following email interview with Dr. Charbonneau (PC) which is designed to inform interested readers about Dr. Charbonneau’s corner of the world of maple syrup history, what he has learned, how that came to be, and where it is going.
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MT: We first became acquainted through your search for early recipes for sucre à la crème. Can you describe what sucre à la crème is and what makes it different from other maple sugar-based confections?
PC: First, thanks for your interest. I’m thrilled to be discussing this topic with you.
Sucre à la crème is a grained confection that was historically made of maple sugar and cream (or possibly other sources of milkfat). In a structural sense, it is akin to fudge, albeit without chocolate.
A tray of pieces of sucre à la crème. Courtesy of Duke News.
What differentiates sucre à la crème from other maple sugar-based confections is that most contemporary recipes for it use unrefined sugars that are not maple based, such as brown sugar. The connection of the confection with its maple sugar history has therefore been largely severed. Sucre à la crème is also special to me because my late great-aunt, who lived upstairs from my parents, used to make me some when I was young.
MT: Your primary areas of academic research and teaching are chemistry. How did you get interested in this topic and doing historical research?
PC: I have used sucre à la crème in countless courses and public demonstrations about the science of cooking. Contrasting it with soft caramel illustrates vividly (and tastefully) the importance of sugar microstructure on mouthfeel. In short, the grained confection is crumbly while the caramel is very sticky, even though we make the two from the same ingredients, mixed in the same proportions, and heated to the same temperature.
Making sucre à la crème. Courtesy of Keely Glass.
Therefore, when I was asked to contribute a chapter for the Handbook of Molecular Gastronomy, I immediately thought of writing something about sucre à la crème. Because the confection is not broadly known outside of the French-speaking northeast of the American continent, I also wanted to provide some cultural and historical context along with the technical presentation. When I started looking for related references, however, I was surprised by how little was known. What little I could find was not particularly convincing either. I therefore decided to plunge into the question myself.
MT: Although your research on the history of sucre à la crème is ongoing, what is the aim of your research?
PC: As I explained above, this project fell onto my lap by accident. As a result, its goal has long been somewhat undefined. That said, I quickly realized that one of the challenges of making sense of the history of sucre à la crème would be to disentangle it from that of related confections. Figuring out the confectionary landscape in which sucre à la crème emerged has therefore been my main objective thus far.
MT: Can you then tell us more about what else you are looking at and how that intersects with sucre à la crème research?
PC: While the history of fudge has been carefully documented from its emergence in the 1890s onward, that of other related confections have not.
My first article, which should soon appear in CuiZine, considered pralines made from nixtamalized corn coated with maple sugar. These confections were common frontier food in the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence regions during the 18th and early 19th centuries, but they disappeared with the emergence of pemmican.
Eighteenth century cane sugar producers from contemporary Mexico also made a sucre à la crème-like confection, panochita de leche. The confection later spread to California and then to the rest of the US. It has since largely disappeared from Mexico, especially under that name, which (today) has a pornographic connotation [caution to readers if you google the term panochita you will bring up links to pornographic websites]. A history of this confection should soon appear in Gastronomica.
MT: I have found that most folks interested in maple history in the US do not speak or read French and that likewise, some in Quebec are not fluent in English. But then there are scholars like yourself who are fluent in both French and English. How has a mastery of both languages helped with your sucre à la crème research?
PC: It’s been essential. Honestly, I don’t know how one could do without.
MT: Out of curiosity, are there other languages you speak or read, besides French and English?
PC: I have some linguistic skills in Spanish and in Dutch. I learned the former through a couple of high-school and college classes, and the latter while a postdoctoral scholar in Amsterdam. By chance, these two languages have both been helpful in my study of grained confections in the Western world.
That said, I unfortunately do not have any linguistic skills in autochthonous languages. For the praline work, in particular, some notions of Iroquoian would have been handy. Although a linguist helped me out a bit, I’m not as confident about that aspect of the work as I wish I could be.
MT: As a chemist working in the physical sciences spending most of your time working on questions with relatively straightforward methods and results, do you find it difficult to put on your historian’s hat and navigate the use of more qualitative methods and the oftentimes inconsistent and incomplete historic record?
PC: Yes and no. Having done some family history work in the past, I have some ideas of the types of resources I might unearth. I also truly enjoy the chase. I get completely absorbed by looking for documents and other historical sources, and I enjoy visiting libraries and archives. Nowadays, a remarkable quantity of material can be tracked—and sometimes even found—online, which lowers the bar to exploring historical material broadly.
I nevertheless have some serious gaps in knowledge, and I have not been trained to write in that field. That’s one of the reasons I have collaborated with other researchers on all my projects thus far. Once my apprenticeship is completed, maybe I’ll risk going alone.
MT: Your research on the details of maple sugar related recipes in early North American cookbooks is fascinating and makes me wonder if you have considered writing a book that examines and documents the place of maple sugar in the foodways of North America from the 16th to the 19th centuries?
PC: The idea has crossed my mind, but I feel the existing scholarship on and around the topic is too thin to consolidate it in book form at this stage. Writing separate articles is also more compatible with my part-time engagement with the field. But maybe I’ll revisit this decision in a few years.
MT: Duke University is a bit outside the traditional range of maple syrup production, how has that affected your research? Do you have a favorite syrup supplier from Quebec or the US where you obtain your syrup?
PC: Great question! We always have maple syrup at home. My uncle’s neighbor on the chemin de la Presqu’île, just outside of Montréal, taps a few trees every year. Because my dad helps along, he brings home a few gallons. A couple of these makes it down to North Carolina every year.
MT: A fun part of studying historic recipes is attempting to try your hand at recreating and tasting the recipes of the past. Can you tell me more about your experiences working with old recipes? Is it difficult? Are there any successes or failures you can share?
PC: I haven’t done many recreations thus far, but my collaborators have. They are fortunately very talented, so they have figured ways out of whatever challenges they have met. For the panochita de leche paper, however, that took a few tries. The details of that struggle have even warranted their own publication, which should appear in that same issue of Gastronomica.
MT: Where can interested readers go to read more of your research on the history of the use of sugars and confections in the North American history?
PC: It should all be published at some point. I’ll make sure that a version of each of these articles is available on Duke’s institutional repository, which is accessible from my faculty page. In the meantime, feel free to reach out to me by email if you have any questions.
Check the following sites in the near future for links to publication of Dr. Charbonneau’s sucre à la crème and other confection history related articles .
The archives of Paul Smith’s College has digitized and shared online a series of six films, originally shot in 16 mm color, that show various scenes of maple sugaring in the early 1960s.
When I contacted the archivists at Paul Smith’s to ask about the background on the films it was shared that very little was known. The films more or less appeared at the archives with no supporting information. It was not apparent who made the films, but in viewing, it was clear that the majority of the footage was made in New York state which suggested that possibly someone from the maple research program at Cornell University, or possibly maple equipment manufacturer Bob Lamb out of Liverpool, NY had made the films.
Bob Lamb’s May 15, 1961 Notice to tubing vendors – Courtesy of University of Vermont Archives.
I strongly suspected the films were shot by Bob Lamb considering he never personally appeared in any of the footage and the heavy emphasis on documenting only Lamb’s Naturalflow tubing with no examples of the other competing tubing product at the time.
My suspicions were confirmed when after a little sleuthing and digging in my research files from the Fred Laing folders of the maple research archives at the University of Vermont Special Collection turned up a notice from May 15, 1961 that was sent by Bob Lamb to the vendors that were selling his Naturalflow plastic tubing. In this notice Lamb writes:
A small group of us have been running 16 M.M. Colored movie cameras this spring over quite a wide spread area. We have tried to make the film a general “MAPLE FILM,” specializing in showing hundreds of miles of tubing and working right.
The film covers tubing, from taking tubing into the woods, tapping the trees, installing tubing, an (sic) disassembling, as well as washed and stored. The entire operation from start to finish. This portion is part of the Lloyd Sipple story. This part of the film is a wonderful way to show a prospect that has a great doubt as to what to do with tubing after he gets it. It will help others that want to improve their ways of using tubing.
None of the footage in the six films in the Paul Smith’s archives appears to be a single finished film that has been edited and prepared for distribution. Rather, it appears instead to be many minutes of raw footage, oftentimes showing the same general scene over and over. Also, as raw footage, some of the scenes appear to be underexposed and can be rather dark at times. it should also be pointed out that there is no audio with these digital films.
Announcement on page 11 of the November 1962 of the Maple Syrup Digest from Bob Lamb informing readers about the production and availability of a series of maple syrup films.
Subsequent research has located an advertisement placed by Bob Lamb in the November 1962 Maple Syrup Digest where he makes it known that he has filmed and prepared new films in 1962 in addition to his 1961 film and that these are available free, by request, for showing at maple meetings. He also notes the run time of the films, which are shorter than the Paul Smith’s footage, suggesting what he was offering were edited “finished” films and the Paul Smith’s films are the raw footage. Lamb also noted that none of these films had sound added at that time.
Based on the date and information in Lamb’s 1961 mailed out notice and 1962 Maple Syrup Digest ad, as well as the known date of the group photo at the Cooperstown meeting of the National Maple Syrup Council (1963), the footage in the films can be said to range from 1961-1963. Other elements and details in the footage, such as the packaging featured at the Reynolds Sugar Bush sales room, are consistent with this date range.
The six films feature various scenes and locations, mostly in New York but also in Ohio and Wisconsin. The bulk of the footage was shot at the sugarbush and sugar house of Lloyd Sipple in Bainbridge, New York. As mentioned in the quote from Bob Lamb’s notice, the focus of the footage is presenting Lamb’s Natural Flow plastic tubing in use so there are many minutes devoted to tapping and installing the tubing, checking tubing lines, and demonstrating tubing removal, dismantling and cleaning.
Because this was in the era when tubing was still new and evolving technology, it was recommended at the time that tubing should not be left hanging in the sugarbush and instead should be removed and meticulously cleaned and stored at the end of the season before being reinstalled the following winter. Likewise, it was the belief and recommendation of Bob Lamb at the time that his tubing should be laid across the ground or surface of the snow and not strung taunt at waist or chest height.
A number of individuals notable in the history of the maple industry and maple research are recognizable in the footage. These include sugarmaker and editor of Maple Syrup Digest, Lloyd Sipple of Bainbridge, NY; Dr. C.O. Willits of the USDA Eastern Regional Research Laboratory in Philadelphia, PA; Dr. Fred Winch of Cornell University; and Dr. James Marvin of the University of Vermont. There are also specific recognizable sugarbushes that appear in the footage, some brief, and some for many minutes. These include the Sipple’s Pure Maple Products in Bainbridge, NY ; Reynolds Sugar Bush in Aniwa, WI; Harold Tyler’s Maple Farm near Worchester, NY; Ray Norlin’s Central Evaporator Plant in Ogema, WI; Taylor Farm Sugar Camp in Stamford, NY; Keim’s Kamp Maple Products in West Salisbury, PA; and the Toque Rouge Sugar Camp in Quebec.
Below you will find links to the Paul Smith’s archive pages for all six of the films along with a few stills and comments noting some of scenes, people, locations, and highlights in each film. Click on the underlined title to be taken to the link to view each film.
Comments: Most of the film is repeated shots of a three person tapping crew installing Lamb tubing at Llyod Sipple’s sugarbush. Some scenes are at trees in the yard at his farm in front of the sugarhouse and others in the woods of the sugarbush.
The tapholes were being drilled using a King brand gasoline, backpack mounted power tapper followed by another man inserting an antimicrobial paraformaldehyde tablet into the tapholes before a third man inserted the plastic tap and attached tubing. Additional shots of tagged tapholes from previous years showing the effects on tap hole closure from treatment with Chlorox bleach versus paraformaldehyde tablets.
Other scenes include end of season removal process for plastic tubing including washing in a metal tank and rinsing with a pressure hose. Additional scenes are of gathering sap from roadside tanks by pumping into a tanker truck and a few shots of making maple candies in a candy kitchen.
Comments: Footage illustrating the process of installation of Lamb tubing in snow with the crew wearing snowshoes. Long drop lines installed at the tap holes were connected to lateral lines laid on the surface of the snow. A few shots of flushing freshly drilled tapholes with bleach solution prior to inserting plastic tap.
Shots of tanker truck delivering a load of fresh sap to Lloyd Sipple’s sugarhouse. Shots inside Sipple sugarhouse with Lloyd running three evaporators simultaneously. Additional views of Sipple filling N.Y.S. (New York State) one gallon metal syrup cans. There are short scenes of the Taylor Farm Sugar Camp in Stamford, New York, as well as a glimpse of the log cabin style sugarhouse in Burton, Ohio.
View of removal and cleaning of plastic tubing, followed by washing and coiling on reels for storage. On this removal day, Dr. C.O. Willits is seen observing and checking condition of tubing.
A short bit of footage of George Keim’s sugarhouse in Pennsylvania followed by views of sap being delivered to a sugarhouse in the unique Pennsylvania “double barrel” wooden sap gathering tank. Views of the tank being pulled by a team of horses then by a tractor. Some footage of candy making and filling candy molds.
Comments: many of the same general scenes as appear in other films in this group such as tapping and installation of tubing, inspection, removal, washing and storage. Notable shots of using paraformaldehyde pellet gun to insert pellet in taphole. Lloyd Sipple appears in footage working with installation crew.
Numerous views of the time consuming work of removal, washing, rinsing, and drying thousands of taps, drop lines, and fittings, and thousands of feet of tubing. Lateral lines and main lines were all removed and cleaned by hand and with pressurized water.
Additional footage of draining and drying tubing by stretching over roof of farm buildings before coiling on special rigs and storing in large rolls. Also a few moments of shots of women making maple candy and Lloyd Sipple maple granulated sugar in pot before sifting and packing into small jars.
Some viewers may recognize the view of the tanker truck pumping out a roadside collection tank as the source image for the artwork on the USDA Maple Sirup Producers Manualin the 1960s and 1970s. The original scene as appears in the film is a reverse of the artwork on the cover of the old maple manual.
Comments: Dr. C.O. Willits appears to monitor steam heated finishing evaporator at Sipple’s sugarhouse with other visitors looking on. Additional views of Lloyd Sipple standing alongside felt filters at the steam evaporators drawing off finished syrup.
Scenes of Dr. Fred Winch testing sugar levels in sap in the tank of a gathering truck using a hydrometers as well as an extended footage of Dr. Winch preparing sample dishes to measure bacterial growth in maple sap.
Short clip of attendees of 4th annual meeting of the National Maple Syrup Council assembled for group photograph in front of Fenimore Hall in Cooperstown, NY in 1963.
Comments: There are scenes of the inspection of Lamb Naturalflow plastic tubing, drop lines, lateral lines, and main lines running into sap collection tanks in the woods, including a short clip of Dr. James Marvin from the University of Vermont There is short section of footage at Harold Tyler’s Maple Farm, a 7,000 operation near Worchester, New York. Other short footage includes the log sugar house in Burton, Ohio that is part of the Geauga County Maple Festival.
The latter half of the film was shot at two sugarhouses in Wisconsin. There is about one minute of exterior and interior scenes show Ray Norlin’s brand new Central Evaporator Plant in Ogema, Wisconsin, which was built in 1962. Norlin’s was one of the first purpose built Central Evaporator Plants that made maple syrup almost exclusively from sap purchased from local sap gatherers rather than from sap gathered in a sugarbush owned or operated by the sugarmaker.
A substantial portion of this footage features the Reynolds Sugar Bush plant at Aniwa, Wisconsin during the boiling season.
There are scenes of sap being delivered and received by Juan Reynolds, both in large tanks drawn by a team of horses and in milk cans brought to the plant in the back seat of a car. Other scenes at the busy plant show an interior sales room with a enormous variety of syrup tins, bottles, as well as many shapes and designs of ceramic and plastic containers.
Other scenes show Adin Reynolds operating a syrup boiling tank as well as Lynn Reynolds describing one of the Reynolds’ large underground concrete syrup tanks located in their sugarbush.
Comments: Based on the style of architecture of the houses and cabins (notably flared eaves on the roof forms) the film was shot at a few sugarbushes and sugarhouses in Quebec including a visit to a sugarbush producing under the name of Toque Rouge (Red Cap) maple syrup.
Footage of Lamb tubing installations in Quebec at this time show it being widely adopted through the maple syrup world and Quebec sugarbushes were using the same layout and tubing design as in sugarbushes in the United States. One closeup of the text printed on the tubing reads Naturalflow – Montcalm, Quebec” showing the location where Lamb tubing for Quebec markets was being manufactured.
There are similar views of, installation, inspection of tubing lines that have already been hung and the trees tapped, as well as footage of breakdown and removal of the taps and plastic tubing using various designs for winding the tubing on reels or spools. Two sugarhouses in the film show large oil fired evaporators, fairly sophisticated for the early 1960s.
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Special thanks to the folks at the Paul Smith’s College Joan Weill Adirondack Library Archives for taking the time and getting the funding necessary to convert these 16 mm films to digital format and make them available to the public to view on their library website.
In November 2021 I posted a story about discoveries I made that shed light on the origins of Quebec’s iconic round can for packaging maple syrup. As is sometimes the case, publishing a research report can spark interest and open up new doors to information and lines of inquiry.
Following up on that post I was able to learn a bit more about the origins of the Dominion & Grimm (D & G) design for syrup can labels, arguably the most famous and the truly iconic image of these 26 oz. / 540 ml cans.
Le Bulletin des Agriculteurs advertisement from December 1955 for the new one gallon, four-color lithographed rectangular syrup can from Dominion & Grimm.
As noted in the previously posted story, the earliest evidence I could find for the appearance or use of the D & G design was a December 1955 advertisement announcing the introduction of a new four color lithographed can in the one gallon size. The earliest dated image I could find of the use of this D & G design on a round 26 ounce can was in a D & G Catalog from 1961.
Graphic image of D & G trademark design from United States Patent and Trademark Office registration.
Trying to get a bit more information on the early dates and the creator of the D & G design, I examined the trademark history of the image for both Canada (application number 1942475) and the United States (serial number 87833883). In both cases the trademark record indicates that the design first appeared sometime before 1962, but there were no more specific details about the first date of use. Helpful as an official record, but we already knew it was in use well before 1962.
Excerpt from 1961 Dominion & Grimm equipment catalog showing the D & G design on gallon. half gallon, quart, and 26 ounce round cans.
Shifting gears to see if I could find out the name of the artist who designed the D & G label, I contacted Dominion & Grimm and was pleased to be put in touch with Monsieur François Corriveau, Dominion & Grimm’s Marketing and Communications contact, who was very gracious in tackling my questions. Mr. Corriveau was able to tell me, “we have an old but undated framed poster of the artwork at the office with mentions at the bottom that says “Registered drawing” and “Design by Sylva Lebrun”.
Sylva LeBrun is the founder of Dominion Evaporators in Montreal in 1940. LeBrun later purchased the Grimm in 1953 and combined them to form the Dominion & Grimm Company. So, it was Mr. LeBrun himself who is credited with the design for the D & G syrup cans.
Example of an early one gallon size D & G can, note the lack of volume or weight information. From the collections of Bev Campbell.
Mr. Corriveau further added, “that It seems that there is no traces of when the can with the famous design was introduced. Dominion evaporators was really big in canning equipment for food in the beginning of the 1950’s. (Sterilization and so forth). So we always assumed that the can came first (as soon as 1951) and the metal jugs arrived later in 1955. But we have no evidence that this is what really happened.”
Considering: 1) that Mr. LeBrun was credited with the design; 2) the earliest example we have of the design is a 1955 D & G advertisement; and 3) taking into account that Dominion & Grimm as a company did not exist until 1953, it seems likely that the D &G design was in existence, or at least in use, no earlier than 1953 and most likely was created by Sylva Lebrun around 1954.
Special thanks to Mr. François Corriveau and his colleagues at Dominion & Grimm for sharing their knowledge and company history and helping us all learn a little more about the history of this iconic syrup can.
Two examples of the iconic Québec maple syrup can. Photography by Amy Cavanaugh.
In Québec, it is common for maple syrup to be packaged and sold in a unique round, flat-topped metal can, similar in size and shape to a large can of soup or crushed tomatoes. In other parts of the maple syrup producing region in Canada and the United States, maple syrup is more commonly packed in plastic jugs with handles, fancy glass bottles, or rectangular metal cans of various sizes. Today, Québec cans are filled with 540 milliliters of syrup, about the same as 19 fluid ounces, a little more than the 16 oz. American pint. When these cans were first introduced in 1952, they were marked with their container or net weight of 26 oz. and when Canada converted to metric in 1980 the cans began to be labeled in liquid volume of 540 ml.
A contemporary example of the iconic Dominion & Grimm design on the Québec can. The bands of ridges around the can are known as beading and add strength and stability to the walls of a round can. Source – Amazon.com listing.
Although, plastic, glass, and rectangular cans also see limited use in Québec today, maple syrup makers and consumers in Québec have hung on tightly to the Québec round can since its introduction, almost as a sort of identity marker and a reminder of their role as world leaders in the modern maple syrup industry. In fact, one could say this can, in particular the version with the design artwork of the Dominion & Grimm Company, has become iconic in Québec. So much so, that one can find the image of the can in pop artwork, on greeting cards, coffee mugs, refrigerator magnets, body tattoos, and even as a central theme of popular Montreal street artist Whatisadam!
Yet, there is a bit of mystery surrounding the details of the origins and introduction of this can. As recounted over the last few years in a few Québec publications, the Québec can was introduced as an option for syrup makers in 1952 following a 1951 contest asking participants to design a new and attractive label for this special sized can. That such a contest was held was known to be true, but beyond that, the details of the contest were thought to be lost.[1] It was a mystery who won, what the winning design looked like, and if that design was ever put to use . . . until now. My research with the digital collections in the National Archives of Québec has brought forward a number of important documentary sources and previously unreported details related to this contest. But first, some background on the introduction of the 26 oz. Québec can.
In the 1950s, Jules Méthot, chief of the honey and maple products division at the Québec Ministry of Agriculture, wanted to take advantage of the growing shift to buying goods from grocery markets. Méthot felt that the maple syrup industry in Québec would have greater success if they packaged syrup in smaller containers than the traditional one-gallon can. Méthot argued that the gallon sized can was cost prohibitive to the average household, and packaging syrup in smaller cans that could be consumed in a shorter period of time and would better preserve the unique flavors of pure maple syrup.[2]
June 1951 announcement and invitation to submit entries to the label design contest. Source – L’Action Catholique, 14 June 1952, p 10.
Under Méthot’s leadership, a concerted effort began to promote the use of smaller cans for syrup. In 1951, the Ministry of Agriculture partnered with Les Producteurs de sucre d’erable du Québec, the influential maple syrup cooperative out of Plessisville, Québec, to sponsor a label design contest held at that summer’s annual Provincial Exposition in Québec City. It was no surprise that Méthot was working hand in hand with the cooperative. As a syrup maker himself, Méthot was involved in the formation of the cooperative from the very beginning and managed the cooperative’s Plessisville plant from 1928 to 1940.
In June 1951, announcements for the contest appeared in various newspapers calling for submissions of the most interesting designs for labels that could be attached to No. 2 and 2 ½ size metal food cans. These sized cans were round in shape and generally held about 26 oz. Moreover, the Continental Can Company and the syrup producers cooperative each contributed $50 for the cash for prizes to be awarded to the three winning entrants.[3]
September 1951 article describing the awards event and the names of the winners of the label design contest. Source – L’Action Catholique Quebec, 6 Sept 1951, p2.
My research has uncovered that over forty designs were entered in the contest, and on September 5th, 1951, the winners were announced at a reception at the Agricultural Pavilion at the Québec Expo before an audience of guests and government officials including Méthot; the Honorable Senator and Director of the syrup cooperative, Cyrille Vaillancourt; J.H. Lavoie, Director of the Horticulture Services at the Ministry of Agriculture; and Dr. Georges Maheux, Director of Information and Research Services at the Ministry of Agriculture.[4] According to news accounts of the reception, first prize was awarded to Mrs. Henri Brunelle of Batiscan, Second prize to Mr. Lionel Bégin, of Lévis, and third prize to Mr. H. Jacques, of Limoilou. Additional genealogical research suggests that Mrs. Henri Brunelle’s full name was probably Emilliana St-Cyr Brunelle.[5]
Furthermore, I was also able to locate a pair of photographs in the National Archives of Québec, taken at the 1951 Québec Exposition by noted Québec photographer Omer Beaudoin that illustrate a display of the entries of in the syrup can label contest.
First of two photos showing the left side of the case displaying the entries and winners of the label design contest at the Provincial Exposition. Photo by Omer Beaudoin – BANQ – – E6,S7,SSI,P88159Second of two photos showing the right side of the case displaying the entries and winners of the label design contest at the Provincial Exposition. Photo by Omer Beaudoin – BANQ – E6,S7,SSI,P88160
If one zooms in closely, it is possible to see that three of the entries have unique tags attached to each of them, which probably mark the three winning entries. Unfortunately, the photos available online are not clear or close enough read the names on the tags or distinguish the labels.[6]
Syrup producers’ cooperative announcement for new 26 oz. round cans that appeared as early as February 1952. Source – Le Bulletin des Agriculteurs, 1 February 1952, p 80.
Following the results of the label design competition the previous summer, in February 1952 the producers’ cooperative began announcing to maple syrup producers that a new No. 2 sized sanitary can that will hold 26 oz. of syrup was now available for purchase to package and sell their syrup. Each can was produced with a color glossy lithographed label featuring Mrs. Emiliana St-Cyr Brunelle’s winning design. When using the new cans, syrup producers only needed to indicate the grade of the syrup and their name and address, which could be completed with a special stamp and ink the cooperative was happy to provide.[7]
A newspaper article from March 1952 indicated that the new 26 oz. tins were lithographed with three colors, red, white, and green. As it turns out, a number of maple antique collectors have preserved examples of these original 26-ounce yellow, red, and green lithographed cans.[8]
Well-preserved example of the 26 oz. can introduced by the cooperative in 1952. Photos courtesy of Réjean Bilodeau.
UPDATE: Since publishing this story, my friend and Québec maple historian, Réjean Bilodeau was kind enough to share with me photographs of an example of the 1952 can from his collection of maple syrup antiques. As can be seen in the photos, the can shows the same design as in the cooperative’s newspaper announcements with the above mentioned red and green colors, along with either a white that has discolored with age, or a creamy yellow. Also, as became standard on Canadian syrup cans, one side appears in French and the other in English.
Updated section added 1 December 2021
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Early image of actual 26 oz, No. 2 size cans in use with a maple leaf motif on the label design. Source – 1952 Ministry of Agriculture Bulletin No. 169. Original photo caption – “Display of maple products along our highways”.
Another early photographic of what appears to be a 26 oz. tin can be found in a 1952 Ministry of Agriculture Bulletin (No. 169) co-authored by Jules R. Méthot and Napoleon Rompré titled, L’érable à sucre du Québec. The bulletin includes a photo of two individuals examining a display of 26 oz. syrup cans with a caption that translates to “display of our maple products along our tourist routes.” The cans in this image do appear to show a maple leaf design, but one that looks different than the maple leaf design in the cooperative’s announcements for the availability of the new cans and does not look like it features a yellow background. At present. this is a new mystery can and maybe there are examples of this can sitting on a collector’s shelf . Perhaps another design entry from the 1951 competition?[9]
Photograph of a 1957 display of Citadelle brand syrup in bottles and cans, including the 26 oz. Québec can. Source – Citadelle website.
The cooperative had been packaging its syrup for many years under the brands of Citadelle and Camp. Through the 1930s and 1940s, their syrup and maple butter was packaged in both bottles and cans of various shapes and sizes. For the most part, cooperative members delivered the majority of their syrup in bulk barrels to the cooperative to be blended, marketed, and sold under the Camp and Citadelle labels. Advertisements show that by July 1952, grocery stores in Canada began to sell Citadelle brand syrup in 26 oz. tins. According to a history presentation on the cooperative’s website, the producers’ cooperative changed its Citadelle label in 1957 to a distinctive design of a red, white, and blue shield over yellow and white vertical stripes.[10]
Example of the producers’ cooperative Citadelle brand syrup in the 26 oz. Québec can featuring a red, white, and blue shield logo over vertical yellow and white stripes. Source – Worthpoint online auction site.
However, a film dating to 1955 and produced by the cooperative and available in the BANQ archives clearly shows the yellow and white stripe motif with the red, white, and blue shield in use on rectangular metal cans and more importantly on round 26 ounce cans.
Frame shots from the Cooperative’s 1955 film titled “Sucre d’érable et coopération”. source – https://numerique.banq.qc.ca/patrimoine/details/52327/2280556
Cooperative members were also free to engage in local and direct sales of their syrup, packed in containers of a gallon or less in size. Although the announcements for the new 26 oz. cans were placed in newspapers by the producers cooperative, these cans were not meant for exclusive use by cooperative members. In fact, Méthot and the Québec Ministry of Agriculture wanted all syrup makers, whether or not they belonged to the cooperative, to start using them to sell syrup to customers. These cans were printed without any brand names and included a space for the syrup maker to add their name and address.[11]
In the US, unbranded, lithographed cans were introduced for filling for direct sale by syrup producers by S. Allen Soule out of Fairfield, Vermont in advance of the 1948 season. In contrast to the Québec can, Soule’s cans were all rectangular in shape and initially came out in larger sizes of quart, half-gallon, and full-gallon volumes.[12]
Advertisement from 1926 for maple syrup packed in round sanitary cans by the L.L. Jenne Maple Syrup and Sugar Company out of Sutton, Québec. Source – Ottawa Citizen, 7 December 1926, p 13.
The Québec can was not the first use of a round colored lithographed metal can in sizes less than a quart for packaging maple syrup in Canada or the US. Prior to this time, a number of syrup packing companies sold both pure and blended maple syrups in round cans of various sizes under their brand names. For example, the L.L. Jenne Maple Sugar and Syrup Company, LTD., out of Sutton, Québec sold syrup in 2 ½ and 5 pound round sanitary cans as early as the 1920s.[13] The cooperative itself sold tall round cans with a screw top under the Camp brand in the 1930s and 1940s. However, the Québec can in interest here was Québec’s first unbranded and generic lithographed can for individual syrup makers to pack their syrup for direct or local sale.[14]
Advertising cover from 1932 booklet published by the producers’ cooperative showing Camp and Citadelle branded maple syrup containers, including tall round cans with a pour spout and the Camp label.
It should also be pointed out that these No. 2 cans holding 26 oz. did not replace the one-gallon metal cans, they merely added a new sized and shaped container that made it easier for producers to get their syrup on the grocery store shelf, and easier and more attractive to those purchasing syrup. In fact, the larger sized cans in sizes of 5 liters or less, have never gone away as an option for Québec syrup makers to fill and for consumers to buy. Unlike the larger sized tall rectangular cans that had a screw-on cap and a pour spout, packaging syrup in these round sanitary cans required syrup makers to close and seal the can by attaching a lid over the entire top portion of the can. This form of closure required syrup makers to invest in a specialized can sealer, either hand powered or the more expensive power-operated can sealer.
Dominion & Grimm, Inc., advertisement from 1955 announcing the introduction of a new gallon sized lithographed can for packing maple syrup. Source – Le Bulletin des Agriculteurs, 1 December 1955, p58.
Although it was the cooperative, with the nudge from Méthot at the Ministry of Agriculture, that led the way in promoting and making possible the introduction of the 26 oz. tin, by no means was the producer’s cooperative the only source in Québec for 26 oz., No. 2 cans for packing syrup. The most iconic design to appear on these sized tins was introduced in 1955 by the Dominion & Grimm (D & G) maple syrup equipment company.[15]
Excerpt from the 1961 Dominion & Grimm maple syrup equipment and supplies catalog showing both rectangular cans and the round 26 oz. Québec can with the iconic D & G design.
Their design features a square red banner with the words “Pure Maple Syrup” above a sugarbush scene with a sugar house painted red. Dominion & Grimm first introduced this four-color lithographed design on tall rectangular -shaped one-gallon tins in 1955, but a few years later were offering the design on rectangular gallon, half-gallon, quart cans, and the infamous 26 oz. round cans. The earliest dated example I have found so far of the D & G round can is from their 1961 catalog. D & G’s beloved design continues to be in use after over sixty years.[16]
It is interesting that Dominion & Grimm did not appear to get on the band wagon for a 26 oz. sanitary can for maple syrup in Québec sooner than sometime after 1955, considering that the Dominion Company (before it combined with Grimm Mfg. LTD in 1953) had been selling canning and sterilizing equipment for years and was selling sanitary cans, for packaging honey, including the No. 2 size can, as early as 1953. [17]
Excerpt from 1981 advertisement for sale of Peter Stransky’s maple syrup cans. Note the Québec style can in the lower left. Source – 1981 Ontario Maple Syrup Producers Association Annual tour booklet.
For the greater part of the 1960s and 1970s, the only Québec cans available were manufactured by D & G. In the 1980s, a few Ontario based can makers and equipment dealers, such as Peter Stransky and Robson-Smith Sugar Bush Supplies introduced their own 540 ml round cans presumably for the Québec market, although those particular Québec cans did not appear for very long in their advertisements.
Although the producers’ cooperative led the way with introducing the size and shape of the Québec can, the D & G design became the iconic and most recognized design. But who is to be credited with that design!? One Québec historian described the D & G can as one of the most celebrated commercial designs in Québec history![18] In essence there were two mysteries of the Québec can, first who submitted the winning designs in the contest to introduce the Québec can and how were they used, which I have solved. The second, the question of the artist behind the most famous and lasting D & G image on the Québec can, still eludes us.
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UPDATE: Since posting the original article further research uncovered additional information about who may be credited with the design of the Dominion & Grimm can. See my post from February 11, 2022 for more details.
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With a little deeper digging and maple history detective work, I was able to learn a bit more about the story of the design contest that jump started these cans. With this knowledge, we are permitted to re-congratulate the winners, Emilianna Brunelle, Lionel Bégin, and H. Jacques and acknowledge the role they had in the origins of the famous maple syrup can Québec.
Updates – 1 December 2021 and 11 February 2022 and 23 September 2023
Acknowledgements: Special thanks to Québec maple historian, Pierre Rheaume, for sharing information related to this story and also to Ontario maple industry expert Bev Campbell for sharing information and images of containers from Ontario. Additional thanks to Réjean Bilodeau for allowing me to share photographs of a preserved example of the cooperative’s original can from 1952 and thanks to Maxime Caouette for calling to my attention the 1955 film by the Citadelle cooperative.
As part of the Dominion & Grimm maple syrup equipment manufacturing company’s Virtual Spring Event, they have put together and shared a great video tracing their origins and history. You can see the video in English at the Youtube link below. There is also a French version available at this link.
It is with great pleasure that this website has been given permission to share an English translation of an interesting and important article tracing the role of Cyrille Vaillancourt and the Georges L’Hoir Company in the manufacturing and adoption of aluminum sap collection pails and the effort to eliminate lead from maple syrup in Quebec.
The original article, written in French by Quebec historian Pierre Prévost, appeared in the Winter 2018 edition (Volume 30, No. 1) of Au fil des ans, Revue de la Société historique de Bellechasse (the Journal of the Bellechasse Historical Society). You can view the original article in French on pages 23 to 28 at this link. For those interested in Quebec maple history, the Winter 2018 edition of this journal contains many other articles, all in French, related to the history of the maple syrup industry in the regional county municipality of Bellechasse, Quebec.
Many thanks to the author, Pierre Prévost, to the President of la Société historique de Bellechasse, and to the editor of the journal for agreeing to my request to translate and share the article on this website.
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L’Hoir Comes to the Aid of the Sugarmakers
By Pierre Prévost
Au fil des ans, Revue de la Société historique de Bellechasse (Winter 2018) Vol. 30, No. 1, pp. 23-28.
On April 10, 1936, American customs officers blocked three wagons of maple products shipped by the Quebec maple sugar Cooperative. Lead contamination is involved, the heavy and toxic metal that causes dreaded effects on the nervous system. Research performed in Vermont a few months earlier indicated the presence of lead in sap collected from maple trees. Since this observation, federal inspectors are vigilant and strict.
Americans want quality
Since 1906, the Pure Food and Drug Act prohibited the sale of contaminated food on American soil. Americans had been burned in the 1920s by Canadian maple sugar that was often of poor quality and in which was sometimes found oat bran, brown sugar, and even pebbles. The minister of Agriculture of the time, Joseph Edouard Caron, then appointed Cyrille Vaillancourt to organize Quebec maple syrup producers and promote the production of quality sugar and syrup. On May 2, 1925, the “Cooperative of Quebec maple sugar producers” was born and a campaign to educate the maple industry was in full swing. In the fall of 1928, Plessisville located at the center of the maple syrup region, became home to the packaging and processing factory. Vaillancourt brought the maple industry to a level never before seen, and in the 1930s even managed to break the monopoly on purchasing Quebec syrup held by American George Cary. This time the problem is quite different and Vaillancourt must remedy it.
Cyrille Vaillancourt, 1946. Source: Historical Society of Alphonse- Gardens.
The chemists of the Plessisville laboratories do not give up. They find the presence of lead in the shipped syrup and, powerless, appeal to their colleagues from all walks of life. They get the support of Elphège Bois, director of the Department of Biochemistry at Laval University, who, after some experiments, manages to solidify the lead and extract it from the unsaleable syrup. The seized cargo is subjected to the treatment and the purified syrup is allowed to proceed Chicago.
However, the problem of contamination with lead oxides is found to occur in the early stages of maple syrup production, a bitter conclusion of the chemists from Plessisville. Lead is likely entering syrup from the collection and storage of sap. Spiles, sap pails, evaporation equipment, transport containers and tanks are targeted, because tinned iron and solder release a tiny amount of heavy metal when in contact with maple sap and syrup, which are acidic in nature, with a pH between 3.4 to 6.6. Aluminum would be the ideal replacement material but is too expensive for maple syrup producers. The main concern of Cyrille Vaillancourt, the manager of the maple sugar cooperative is to find a manufacturer capable of producing good quality aluminum buckets with a two-gallon capacity.
In a random conversation, Cyrille Vaillancourt hears about the director of a specialized stainless-steel factory located in Liège, Belgium. There was a big report in the news a few years earlier about Professor Auguste Picard who was the first researcher to access the remotest part of Earth’s atmosphere. In the meantime, with a restructuring of the Food and Drug Administration in 1938, Washington was tightening its control of food in the United States.
The expertise of L’Hoir
Auguste Piccard pose in front of the sphere manufactured at L’Hoir. This inventor is known to be one of inspirations for the author Hergé’s character of the teacher Sunflower. Source: Federal Archives of Germany.
Originally from Switzerland, Auguste Piccard (1884-1962) became an expert in physics and went to university in Brussels to teach. In 1929, Piccard submitted a daring project to the national scientific research fund recently founded by King Albert. Seduced by the idea of exploring the stratosphere in a balloon, the organization granted him the 400,000 Belgian francs required for the experimental manned flight in the upper atmosphere. Piccard needed a lightweight sphere made from a sufficiently robust aluminum that could withstand an environment where the pressure is only a tenth of that measured on the ground.
Piccard went to meet Georges L’Hoir, who then ran a beer can manufacturing factory in Angleur, on the outskirts of Liège, the cradle of the zinc industry and a former world capital of the steel industry. L’Hoir saw no problem with the request despite not knowing what the 2.1 meters in diameter and 3.5 millimeters thick sphere was intended for. This sphere will become the pride of L’Hoir and will help spread their notoriety throughout the world. “This is the first time that we’ve make a beer barrel in this shape! “(Reply by Georges-Armand L’Hoir to Auguste Piccard)
A first test set for September 14, 1930 was postponed due to adverse weather conditions. Early on the morning of May 27, 1931, near Augsburg, Germany, Auguste Piccard, assisted by engineer Paul Kipfer, took off inside the aluminum capsule supported by a balloon that had to expand to a diameter of 30 meters.
Ascending at the rate of half a kilometer a minute allowed him to realize the first pressurized flight while climbing to 15,781 meters, a height never previously reached by a living being and the first of a series of world records assigned to Piccard. Despite some pitfalls, the crew travelled 1,800 kilometers and finally landing on a glacier in Austria, before the reserves of oxygen ran out. Their return to civilization was triumphant and the news toured the globe.
Auguste Piccard returned to Georges L’Hoir’s factory to have a second, improved version of the capsule manufactured: the first having been battered by the squalls of wind during its second test, its tightness was no longer insured. On August 18, 1932, Piccard rose again into the stratosphere, this time with the Belgian engineer Max Cosyns. They reached 16,940 meters altitude.
Georges-Armand L’Hoir in Canada
Portrait of Georges-Armand L’Hoir. Source: Society for the History of Lévis.
The exploits of Professor Piccard caused a sensation on all continents and the notoriety of Georges L’Hoir followed in their wake. Cyrille Vaillancourt had found the man for the job to supply millions of revolutionary sap pails. He communicates with the Belgian manufacturer to let him know what he is seeking and sends him samples. A few weeks pass, other samples come back with a written proposal then they wait. To their surprise, in May, Georges-Armand L’Hoir arrives in Lévis, a few days before the royal couple, and knocks on Cyril’s Vaillancourt’s door. It is not L’Hoir’s first visit to American soil, since he monitored the production of buses intended for Belgian government during the Great War. On this trip he wanted to come back to America to establish a new factory. It is said that he was courted by the citizens of Kitchener, Ontario who were ready to build him a factory to accommodate his machinery. The ball was now in the camp of the people of Lévis, and Vaillancourt, administrator of the Caisse populaire de Lévis, worked out some scenarios.
Note: Lévis is a city in eastern Quebec, Canada, located on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River, opposite Quebec City. A caisse populaire in Quebec is most similar to a what is called a credit union in the United States.
With the support of his counterpart Valmore de Billy, president of the Caisse de Lévis, Cyrille Vaillancourt submits a proposal to his colleagues to build a factory for the production of aluminum sap pails in Lévis. The credit committee deliberates and considers two financing scenarios for this project: either a group of citizens endorses Georges-Armand L’Hoir for a loan of up to $ 20,000; or the Caisse builds the factory at its own expense and L’Hoir would rent the facility at cost plus 5% interest. The leaders of the Caisse choose the second option considering that L’Hoir is a recognized industrialist, who has a strong credit rating with banks in Belgium and France, and on the condition that he agrees to stay in Lévis if he wants to expand his factory. A disbursement up to up to $ 20,000 is allowed for the construction of a factory of about 180 feet by 40 situated on reclaimed land by the river, a little downstream from Hadlow Cove. L’Hoir will have to pay monthly rent while the Maple Syrup Cooperative guarantees the purchase of all the sap pails as long as their price and quality are maintained.
Around 1960, these ladies work to complete the assembly and the polishing of aluminum spiles. Source: Company History of Lévis.
The idea of living in a traditional Quebec house that was the birthplace of the poet Louis Frechette quickly seduced the Belgian industrialist. A factory built behind the attractive house would benefit from a dock and access to the Canadian National Railway. Georges-Armand L’Hoir probably made the best choice since a highly militarized Nazi Germany was threating Liège which is only a few away kilometers from the border with Germany.
The Lévis plant is ready to open in the fall of 1939, when the German troops invade Poland, an act which leads to the declaration of war. The metallurgist and his family in retreat from Europe, settled in to their new Quebec home, while the factory receives machining tools and await the arrival of aluminum.
A vast replacement operation
Everything is in place to produce sap pails intended for Quebec maple syrup producers. However, aluminum is scarce since the aeronautical industry requires huge amounts of the white metal for the war effort. This situation goes against the views of Adélard Godbout, the newly elected Liberal Minister who was recently elected in solidarity with Ottawa Liberals who supported the war effort but did not advocate for conscription.
An agronomist by training, Adélard Godbout campaigns for the promotion of trade between Quebec and the United States. To this end, he negotiates with the federal government and the Aluminum Company of Canada (ALCAN) to allow a meager but sufficient share of the aluminum for the L’Hoir plant to meet the demands for new sap pails. Using his influence in Ottawa, the prime minister facilitates a temporary supply which, without it, the L’Hoir factory would have to close its doors. Production at the factory is vital for soldiers since it manufactures military containers, among other things. Almost two years have passed since the American embargo on Canadian maple products when, in 1940, Godbout established a trade delegation from the provincial general assembly to New York to promote and highlight Quebec products.
The next three images show the evolution of the L’Hoir factory originally built in 1939 in the backfilled land, enlarged towards the west in 1940 with a serrated roof to let in natural light, then again in 1950. Source: Historical Society of Lévis.
Aerial view of the L’Hoir factory, after 1950. Source: Historical Society of Lévis.
The country waits in vain for the end of rationing on metals. In the September 1940 edition of the publication L’Abeille et l’erable, Cyrille Vaillancourt announces that the metal controller in Ottawa has rationed 400,000 sap pails to be available for the spring season of 1941. At this rate, he would not see the end of the replacement operation. Vaillancourt had reached an agreement with the two governments to subsidize the cost of the pail replacement program being administered by the Cooperative. The producers must turn in their old sap pails and pay a third of the cost of the new pails with the federal and provincial governments each picking up a third of the remaining cost.
In December 1942, the L’Hoir company obtains a letters patent, and forms a corporation under the name “Les Produits en Aluminium et Acier Inoxydable L’Hoir Inc.” to “manufacture, buy, sell, and import all kinds of products, articles, and merchandise in metal and conduct trade in general and in particular engage in transactions directly or indirectly, to industry or commerce, for objects manufactured from aluminum or stainless steel”. In 1943, Vaillancourt obtains a better position to affect the supply when he became and advisor to the wartime price commission.
When the war is over, aluminum becomes abundant again and industry experiences unexpected economic growth. The L’Hoir factory continues to produce maple syrup equipment as well as lightweight saucepans that are popular with housewives. However, their founder dies in 1948, leaving his son Georges in charge of the company.
During the 1950s, larger and larger objects are coming out of the factory. The factory produces tanks of all kinds and shapes, fixed and mobile, that are intended for different liquids, such as alcoholic beverages, dairy products, vinegars, and other food products. In the case of sap pails, the replacement program comes to an end in March 1960. In all, about 18 million sap pails were made at L’Hoir, before plastic begins to see increased use in the maple industry.
In 1984, the company experienced difficulties and was sold in a last-ditch attempt to save it from bankruptcy. Ultimately, the factory closed its doors and looked for a new tenant and use. The house where Louis Fréchette was born remains uninhabited since 1985 and its fate remains uncertain. On November 11, 2000, Georges L’Hoir died at the Hôtel-Dieu in Lévis. His factory was demolished a few years later and the sale of the property remains unfinished. Ironically, Georges L’Hoir’s Belgian factory in Angleur, near the center of Liège, still partly exists, and is currently occupied by Drytec, a pneumatic industrial company.
“Our home was not precisely rich, but its relative elegance contrasted with most other houses in the neighborhood. I still see her in her frame of old hairy elms, with its green shutters, on a white background, its veranda, and its vegetable garden. “(Louis-Honoré Fréchette)
Thanks to L’Hoir’s expertise, maple products have seen a significant reduction in lead contamination. Since that time, the lead content in maple syrup made in Quebec is tested. If the concentration is too high, above 250 parts per billion, the maple syrup is destroyed. Aluminum sap pails are now antiques. Nevertheless, they are still widely used and recognized by almost any Quebecer whether they are being used for maple syrup or not.
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Pierre Prévost is vice-president of la Société historique de Bellechasse and carpenter-joiner. (Photography : Marie-Josée Deschênes, 2017.)
I am happy to share a recent article I wrote on the origins and unique history of the use of a round metal can for packing maple syrup in the province of Québec. Unlike the United States and most other Canadian provinces, where syrup was packed in rectangular shaped metal cans for many years, in Québec the use of a round can was introduced in the 1950s and has continued to be used ever since, eventually becoming an iconic cultural symbol identifed with Québec.
