The Truth About Aunt Jemima Syrup
Oh, Aunt Jemima Original Maple Syrup, how I love you dearly.
First of all, if you were looking for a politically-driven article on how Quaker Oats is eliminating the Aunt Jemima brand by changing the photo on the front of the bottle and dropping the name altogether, then you're in the wrong place.
This article is based on the simplistic love and nostalgia I've had with the syrup growing up.
My entire life, since I can remember, my family has always been "Team Aunt Jemima." I've used it over any other brand and admittedly (as blasphemous as this is going to sound) chose the flavor of Aunt Jemima over real Vermont or Northeast Kingdom products. I'm talking about the straight-from-the-tree-and-poured-over-a-stack-of-pancakes kind; it's a no from me. Give me my Aunt Jemima syrup and please don't argue with me about it. It's a life choice I'm ok with making.
Now, before you ask me about Mrs. Butterworth, I'm all set.
Yeah, she has that buttery, melt-in-your-mouth appeal to her, but it's too rich for my liking. You see, there is a perfect consistency and balance with Aunt Jemima where the stuff you buy out of Vermont gift shops that claim to be straight from the tree is too thick and Mrs. Buttersworth is too sugary. Smother my French toast sticks with some Aunt Jemima all day, any day and call it a day. I know what I like and I'm sticking to it.
Don't even get me started on Hungry Jack, Log Cabin, or that overpriced nonsense they sell at Trader Joe's.
Get me a giant jug of Aunt Jemima's ORIGINAL syrup – not that "Lite stuff" with fewer calories, that's a whole other ball game – and I'm happier than a pig in mud with a stack of flapjacks drenched in maple syrup. Aunt Jemima syrup, that is.
Again, I'm too uneducated to know what's going on in the world today, but well enough versed in understanding my undying love for a breakfast syrup that's like no other. Change the name if you must, but please keep the taste the same.