IN MY never-ending quest to keep the cupboards tidy, I went foraging again this week, and found a treasure I'd stored away and forgotten about.

I remembered that, last summer, my friend from New York had asked if there was anything I'd like her to bring over for me, and I mentioned that it’s hard to find really good quality maple syrup in the UK.

She duly crossed the Atlantic with a large jug of top-quality Vermont syrup, and somehow, instead of grabbing it from her grasp and glugging most in one go (I have a bit of a ‘thing’ for maple syrup’s seductive smokiness) I showed immense restraint and put it aside for later.

And I’d completely forgotten about it until I moved aside a few tins of chickpeas and there it was. Instantly, I had to make something with it. And, with Shrove Tuesday coming up fairly soon, what better way to showcase this amazing natural product than by teaming it up with perhaps its ultimate companion, the classic American breakfast pancake?

I couldn’t think of any, barring perhaps a delicious wobbly pecan pie (we’ll do that at some point this year), so for this week’s recipe it’s back to one of my culinary obsessions – the American diner.

I am fascinated by the culture of the classic diner; I suppose being a foreigner it’s the romance of these places that captivates every bit as much as the delicious food. I love the imagery of these places, whether in bustling cities, out on lonely highways in the desert or round wooded bends in the hills.

You pull off the interstate, step into the steamy warmth through the door and it’s all as you expected: a charming waitress in a candy pink uniform shows you to your booth or a spot at the counter and pours you a mug of coffee without drawing breath.

I always find diner coffee is always smooth and tasty, never overcooked or bitter.

There’s a pleasing clatter coming from the short-order kitchen, and everything smells great. Huge tumblers of fresh juice appear, along with stacks of thick, golden pancakes, mountains of corned-beef hash and rustling piles of crisp smoky bacon. Deep yellow scrambled eggs complete the tableau.

All you need now is a jug of that sweet, heavenly nectar. Maple syrup is brilliant stuff, made from the sap of certain types of maple tree, growing mainly in North America.

It was first harvested by native Americans, but has now become quite an industry. Canada alone makes about 26½ million litres every year! It’s quite an intensive manufacturing process – to make one litre of syrup you need to start with between 30 and 50 litres of sap!

Maple forests are therefore managed extremely carefully to maintain supply and guarantee the longevity of these amazing, talented trees. Once the syrup is boiled and bottled it is ready to be graded.

Confusingly, there are three recognised grading systems; one Canadian, one American and one used exclusively by Vermont producers.

Most top grade syrup is sold in smaller bottles, with the inferior product used in cooking and manufacturing.

Vermont, way up in the pretty North-Eastern corner of the US, is widely agreed to produce the finest quality syrups. The ‘Vermont Fancy’ is the lightest, delicate grade, but I prefer the ‘Dark Amber’ which packs an intensely maple punch. Being all-natural, maple syrup is an excellent source of ‘good’ sugar, but it should be taken in moderation.