Maple Chipotle Sauce

Maple Chipotle Sauce. Maple syrup, smoked chili, and a spoon of curry powder.

Maple Chipotle Sauce is Easton Reed's smoky-spicy barbecue sauce with maple syrup, ground chipotle chili, and molasses. No liquid smoke, no pure sweet sauce, no fiery hot sauce.

Maple Chipotle Sauce is Easton Reed's maple chipotle sauce in a 260-milliliter glass bottle, whose smoke note comes solely from the smoked chili. Within the range, it is best classified by its source of sweetness.

Three dark sauces from the house have different sweeteners. The classic rib sauce gets its depth from molasses, the honey version from blossom honey, and this one from maple syrup, accounting for four percent.

Molasses tastes mineral and slightly bitter, honey floral and round. Maple syrup lies in between: caramel-like, with a woody edge that neither of the other two possesses. This edge carries the entire sauce.

Less sweet than its sisters

With 43 grams of sugar per 100 grams, it is the most restrained of the dark sauces. The difference to the honey varieties is a good ten grams, and that is clearly noticeable.

The freed-up space goes to the spices. Paprika powder, roasted onion, soy sauce, and curry powder get room that a sweeter recipe would take away from them.

In the jar, the sauce is dark brown and velvety, with a slight sheen from the invert sugar syrup. It falls heavily from the spoon and stays on the meat without running off.

The smoke of the chipotle lies over everything, dry and leathery, more like a burnt-down fire than fresh smoke. It comes immediately and stays until the end.

Beneath it, the maple syrup works with a soft, caramel-like sweetness. Molasses and brown sugar give it depth, while spirit vinegar counters from below, preventing the sauce from feeling cloying.

The soy sauce works invisibly in the background. It provides the salty-savory base that a pure tomato sauce cannot achieve, and never stands out as an ingredient itself.

Finally, the curry powder with turmeric and coriander seeds makes an appearance. This warm, slightly earthy spice is unusual in a barbecue sauce and sets it apart from any commercial smoke sauce.

It is not spicy in the true sense. Chipotle and cayenne pepper are both below one percent and provide a slight warmth in the aftertaste, nothing more.

Those who expect a sauce with significant heat will find it too tame. And those who fundamentally dislike smoke will find no entry point here, because the smoky note cannot be masked or cooked away.

On pork belly, bean pot, and roasted pumpkin

It is the sauce for anything that can handle both roasted flavors and sweetness. Pork belly, spareribs, and pulled pork are its most obvious applications.

Brush ribs only in the last ten minutes, otherwise the sugar will burn over direct heat. Pork belly slices from the oven get two applications at 180 degrees in the last quarter of the cooking time.

Its second strength is vegetables with their own sweetness. Roasted pumpkin, sweet potato wedges, and corn on the cob are tossed with two tablespoons after cooking. Roasted carrots also tolerate it well.

In a pot, it replaces a whole list of spices. Stir three tablespoons into 400 grams of drained white beans, add half a cup of broth, and let everything simmer gently for twenty minutes. This yields a bean pot with a smoky note without bacon.

Pulled chicken gets color and seasoning in one step. Two to three tablespoons after shredding are enough for 500 grams of meat and bind the dry fibers together again. On a soft bun with coleslaw, this is a complete meal.

However, it does not go well with light fish and delicate salads. Its smoke covers everything that defines the dish.

The same barbecue evening becomes more classic and darker with the molasses rib sauce, or fruitier with the peach whiskey sauce from the same house.

A side note: One tablespoon of sauce, one teaspoon of mustard, and a splash of water create a thinner mixture for basting during long cooking times. This way, the smoky note remains present for hours even at low temperatures.

Forty liters of sap yield one liter of syrup

Maple syrup is not formed in the tree, but in the pot. In spring, a clear, barely sweet sap with about two percent sugar runs from the trunk.

Only hours of boiling down turn it into syrup. Around forty liters of sap yield one liter of finished maple syrup, which reaches its point at about 104 degrees.

At this heat, the roasted notes that define the syrup are created. Nothing of this is tasted in the raw sap, and that's exactly why maple syrup tastes like caramel and not like tree.

The color grades from light to very dark indicate how late in the season the harvest took place. Late, dark syrups have more roasted notes and less subtlety, and for a barbecue sauce, these are exactly the right choice.

The second special point lies in the curry powder, and it is no coincidence. Fenugreek, one of the ingredients in the mixture, contains the same aroma compound that is also found in maple syrup.

This substance is called sotolon, and in high concentrations, it smells distinctly of maple. Curry powder and maple syrup thus share a fragrance note, which explains their connection in this sauce.

The recipe was developed at Ryan's Specialties in Augsburg, and it is cooked in Europe. The choice of a European curry powder in an American barbecue sauce is the most idiosyncratic decision of the entire range.

It clearly comes from a kitchen and not from a marketing plan. If you go through the other recipes of the house, you will not find a comparable borrowing anywhere else.

A spice cabinet from two continents

What fundamentally distinguishes this sauce from other smoke sauces is the origin of its components. Maple comes from northern North America, chipotle from Mexico, and the curry powder from European spice cuisine.

Three traditions in one bottle may sound arbitrary, but here they create a coherent picture. The common denominator is the roasted note that all three bring.

Maple syrup gets it during boiling down, the chili in the smoke, the curry powder during the roasting of the seeds. Three different paths lead to related aromas, and the recipe is built precisely on this.

One limitation remains: It is not suitable as an all-purpose sauce for the refrigerator. It is too unique to stand casually next to fries and demands a dish that can stand up to it.

For a menu, it can also be carried through several courses. It glazes the main course, seasons a side dish of roasted vegetables, and still fits perfectly next to a matured hard cheese at the end.

As a gift, it is suitable for people who already have a range of barbecue sauces in their cupboard. If you want to give a range of flavors, you will find calmer and fruitier neighbors in the same bottle format in the Easton Reed assortment.

A barbecue sauce for those who appreciate smoke and like to discover something unexpected when seasoning.