I am writing this to you at a most crucial time. If you are standing please have a seat. After my tour of New England, I have come to the conclusion that our relationship can no longer continue. Your sickeningly sweet syrup at one point would have been welcome on my stack of pancakes, but I'm sorry my dear your runny sugar cannot compare to the thick natural taste of maple syrup. The delicious sweetness oozes over my waffles now. As I place maple sugar candy in my mouth I melt with it. Why could you never do that for me?!?
That is not to say we didn't have a good run. You were there for me in desperate times, such as in Europe, where the concept of the "real stuff" is as foreign as our singularly colored money. When there was no more maple syrup in the cupboard you were there for me and my love of a cooked breakfast. The honey, while just as sweet and sticky, doesn't have quite the same consistency. And while you came in easy to handle bottle and your sensual feminine shape, there was still something not quite 100% about you. Your cheap production process is something less than desirable for a quality breakfast. The 40 gallons of sap needed to make just one gallon of maple syrup and hours of distillation are just the high class I look for in a breakfast condiment.
I wish you all the best in the future and perhaps you will maintain a large fan base. However, I can no longer be with you. Perhaps we will meet again and you will provide much needed moisture to Ginger's dry pancakes. Until then adieu.
Fred Astaire
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