The colonists, though, were less interested in liquid syrup than in granular sugar. The pure, white, crystallized product of sugar cane was still an expensive luxury, imported from plantations in the West Indies. Maple sugar offered an accessible and affordable substitute. These colonists, out on the imperial periphery, wanted to demonstrate that their fledgling society was just as sophisticated and elegant as that of the metropole. They took the concentrated maple sap and poured it into conical molds, refining it into white sugar-loaves like those produced in Britain from cane syrup. Maple sugar, a distinctively American product, was touted as the equal of the sugar served in the most elegant Old World salons. The clearest syrups and whitest sugars, which betrayed the least hint of their rustic origins, commanded premium prices.

After the Revolution, Americans looked at the maple tree in a new light. To the eminent Philadelphia patriot and physician Benjamin Rush, maple sugar seemed perfectly tailored to the new republic. Here was a commodity that could compete in a global market, bolstering the independence of yeoman farmers, and demonstrating the superiority of free labor. It tapped an abundant resource, required only a small amount of labor, and used supplies most farmers already owned. Best of all, it would destroy the market for Caribbean sugar cane, produced by slaves laboring in horrifying conditions. Rush set down his reflections in the form of a letter to his friend Thomas Jefferson, which he presented publicly in 1791, concluding:

I cannot help contemplating a sugar maple tree with a species of affection and even veneration, for I have persuaded myself, to behold in it the happy means of rendering the commerce and slavery of our African brethren, in the sugar islands as unnecessary, as it has always been inhuman and unjust.

A minor maple sugar bubble ensued, mixing frontier land speculation with fervent abolitionism. One Pennsylvania Quaker, enthralled by the idea of deriving profit from virtue, organized an association for the purpose, dispatching a sample to the president. Washington expressed his thanks for the sugar, which he was "much pleased to find of so good a quality." William Cooper hitched his fledgling town to the enterprise. Dutch investors organized a consortium.

All of these efforts failed commercially. Rush had praised maple sap for its ability to produce refined sugar of "superior purity," offering sweetness without any flavor. But as a refined commodity, competing on cost alone, maple sugar simply could not match the low-priced products of the cane plantations. The late-season sap, with its strong flavor, certainly offered a distinctive product, but not one capable of attracting consumers who had access to more refined alternatives. Rush speculated that it might find some commercial outlet, anyway, if it could be processed into something more desirable. "It affords a most agreeable molasses," he wrote, suggesting that it "might compose the basis of a pleasant summer beer." It was at least as well suited for rum, but Rush piously expressed his hope that "this precious juice will never be prostituted by our citizens to this ignoble purpose."