B is a stronger maple taste, which is why it is used in baking. Fancy has the most delicate flavor of the As (light, medium, and dark), and is generally the most expensive.

Mrph.

Update from the dept of random:

My two new favorite pictures of Matilda.

That is one lethally cute girl you got there, JZ.

Also? This picture is made entirely of fantasticness: [link]

I can't watch the Health Care, Cindy, it would upset me too much, I'd start yelling, and my blood pressure would go all through the roof, and that would be bad for my OWN health. So, I'll just have to wait and see how it turned out tomorrow, and then be vaguely happy (because it's still not communists socializing my nazism or whatver) or disappointed, as necessary.

That's generally how I feel, meara, but I had a good vibe about this one.

I am imagining the House holding its nose on the Stupak (really, that's your name, dude, that only rivals the name of my mother's friend from college, who married a guy named -- I shit you not -- Virgil Crapp) and hoping the Senate will suss it all out.

And now, for your moment of zen.

Also? This picture is made entirely of fantasticness:

They were cracking each other up earlier by doing those hand dance thingies John Travolta did in Grease when he danced with that Cha Cha girl.

JZ deleted the picture where she looked very stoned.

I grew up (like Sophia) with "Oleo" and Ms. Butterworth, but after I had some butter and maple it was all over for the crap I grew up with.

Telemundo is airing an El Santo movie right now!

A guy in a red sports car just pulled out some kind of rocket launcher and blew up teh plane that was strafing him...

When I was pregnant with CJ, I had a strong craving for maple. But true maple syrup didn't quite quench the craving. Maple candy, on the other hand. NOM! The boy is now 13 years old and that is still a favorite.

I love real maple syrup. I grew up on some sort of fake stuff that my mom cooked up on the stove (some maple flavoring, sugar, water) and on margarine. Once upon a time the dairy lobby was strong enough that margarine came in completely white sticks—like sticks of crisco—along with little dye packets. You had to mix them together to get something that looked vaguely like butter. This was before my time, but my parents told me about it.

Anyway, now I'm all about the real maple syrup and butter. And now I want pancakes.

I love butter unreservedly, but living in Florida, I've never worked up the nerve to get a butter bell and leave it on the counter, even with our central air. It's just too terrifying. So I always keep some margarine on hand to spread on toast or use for making grilled cheese. Also keep a box of butter too, for baking, because nothing else will do.

I will say, though, I at least broke the habit early of sticking the opened bags of potato chips in the fridge. Cold potato chips are fundamentally wrong.

With maple syrup, I love the Grade B- make the nommiest glaze for salmon with syrup, lemon juice, butter, and a dash of Worcestershire sauce. Only tastes right on Pacific salmon though, because the fish is strong enough to support it.

This morning, there will be Belgian waffles, as part of Nate's geography assignment. After the coffee kicks in.