The 10 Best Pure Maple Syrups

Anyone who wants one bottle that tastes like a sugarhouse should start with Crown Maple Amber Rich. Today's food editors put it first in a seven-brand tasting, picking out toffee and spiced molasses and a flavor close to fresh from the tree. It comes from an organic estate in New York's Hudson Valley and pours from a tall glass bottle that looks good on a brunch table. The bottle is small, so a syrup-loving family will go through it fast.

For a classic Vermont flavor, buttery with a faint smoky edge, reach for Runamok Sugarmaker's Cut. It placed near the top in two separate published taste tests, and the family that makes it runs a certified organic sugarhouse powered by the sun. The clear glass bottle shows off its copper color, so it works as a hostess gift as well as a pancake topper. The price per ounce is steep for everyday breakfasts.

Bakers and fans of bold syrup should look at Butternut Mountain Farm Organic Dark, a Vermont syrup with a strong, earthy maple taste. That intensity holds up in glazes, granola and baked beans, where a lighter syrup fades, and one cooking site named it the best dark syrup it compared. The upside-down squeeze bottle is handy for drizzling. Stock of this organic size runs thin at times, and the plastic bottle won't impress guests.

Big pancake households get a full quart of Hidden Springs Organic Amber for much less per ounce than small glass bottles. It's a Vermont syrup from family farms, certified by the state's organic farmers' group, with the rounded, caramel-like taste the amber grade is known for. The jug is BPA-free plastic with a handle for pouring. Once opened it belongs in the fridge, and a quart jug hogs a door shelf.

Think of Escuminac Extra Rare Amber as a single-estate syrup: it comes from one organic forest in Quebec and is never blended with other farms' batches. It's made from early-season sap, which gives a light, floral flavor and a thick, honey-like body, and a blind tasting named it the best Canadian syrup of the group. The slim glass bottle makes a fine gift. At this price it belongs on the table, not in the mixing bowl.

For a gift or a weekend splurge, Crown Maple Bourbon Barrel Aged rests organic syrup in emptied bourbon barrels until it takes on a warm, woody finish. It's thick and rich but doesn't taste boozy, so it shines on ice cream, in an old fashioned or brushed on pork chops. The label warns that it can hold a trace of alcohol, which makes it the wrong bottle for kids or anyone avoiding alcohol.

Families who bake and pour a lot can stock 365 Organic Dark, a certified organic quart at a modest price. Its dark grade brings a robust taste that stands up to oatmeal, baked beans and banana bread. Whole Foods blends it from American and Canadian syrup, so it's a workhorse rather than a single-farm specialty. The jug is plain plastic, so most people pour some into a small pitcher for the table.

Spring Tree syrup shows that real maple doesn't need a big outlay. The little glass flask holds a dark, rich syrup that held its own against pricier bottles in a published taste test, and a little of it goes a long way on a stack. It's a good way to try pure syrup before committing to a jug. The flask is tiny, though, and per ounce it costs more than buying a larger size.

The familiar supermarket choice, Maple Grove Farms is a Vermont-based brand whose pure syrup sits in most grocery stores, so a second bottle is simple to find. Its balanced, gentle maple taste suits anyone switching over from pancake syrup made with corn syrup. It's thinner than craft syrups and runs off a stack quickly, which means pouring more each time. The glass bottle keeps the flavor clean.

Runners, cyclists and hikers who want real food mid-workout can tear open UnTapped Maple Packets instead of a sports gel. Each pouch holds a single shot of organic Vermont syrup and nothing else, about 100 calories of quick sugar that fits in a pocket or a jersey. They also suit lunch boxes and travel. Per serving they cost far more than syrup poured from a bottle, so they're for the trail, not the breakfast table.