21 Types Of Syrup And How To Use Them

To an untrained eye, the differences between various kinds of liquid sweeteners are indiscernible. Aren't they all made from the same thing and equally bad for you? Well, not exactly. Some have bad reputations; others are considered medicinal. Some are overused, while others can only be found on the other side of the world. Some stick to their lane, while others are universal. They come from trees, from grains, from succulents, from fruit. Their colors range from almost black to amber to clear. Most of them can replace one another one-for-one, yet possess unique histories, production methods, and applications.

The sweet world of syrups is filled with surprises. From everyone's favorite maple breakfast companion and unassuming, yet necessary simple syrup to the exotic and rare kuromitsu and miel de palma, here's how to learn the differences between common syrup kinds (as well as their similarities!), and master the art of creative and sustainable syrup-making yourself.

The UK's beloved syrup has been on the scene since the 1880s, when Abram Lyle, a Scottish sugar refinery owner, introduced "Goldy," a thick, amber-colored liquid left over from sugar production that became a national staple. So, if you want to live your Great British Baking Show fantasy, you'll need to get your hands on it ─ or make your own by mixing cane sugar with water and lemon juice or citric acid.

Also known as light treacle, it's the key to Harry Potter's favorite dessert, treacle tart, as well as toffee, flapjacks, gingerbread, cookies, and puddings, lending them a buttery, lightly caramelized flavor. Additionally, it can be used as a honey substitute. Just make sure not to confuse it with black treacle, which is akin to molasses ─ dark and intensely flavored.

Everyone's breakfast darling, pure maple syrup is made by boiling down maple tree sap. Conversely, fake maple syrup is artificially flavored, and what it lacks in depth of flavor, it makes up for in a long ingredient list and significantly lower price point.

There are plenty of unconventional ways to use maple syrup, from baking and candy-making to enhancing drinks and savory dishes with its distinct earthy and woody undertones. For example, it makes a perfect glaze for maple sesame tofu and is the key to improving hasselback sweet potatoes. Mixed with mustard, it becomes a versatile sweet-and-spicy sauce combo that can be used as a condiment or a marinade. Using it to replace simple syrup can seriously elevate a whiskey sour, deepening its flavor the way its pale, plain cousin never could.

The practice of making syrup from tree sap is not limited to Europe and North America. In tropical countries, various palm tree syrups are used to satisfy one's sweet tooth, but you'll likely have to travel there to try them.

The Canary Islands' unique take on the syrup is known as palm honey, which was mainly used as medicine; its delicate, nutty, and fruity flavor can be appreciated by visitors of La Gomera. Sri Lankan Kithul also found medicinal uses in Ayurveda, but there's a place for its deep, smoky, woodsy sweetness in everyday food culture. And if you ever find yourself in Bengal, seek out jhola gur, or liquid jaggery. Its robust, toffee-like flavor won't overwhelm your receptors with sweetness and is best enjoyed on its own, spread over roti.

Sorghum syrup is a somewhat obscure relic of Southern cooking. Originating in Africa, the sorgum plant, a grass, was brought to America via the slave trade, and quickly became the sweetener of choice in Southern homes. Often compared to molasses, it's prized for its complex, not-too-sweet flavor and affordability. Despite America's rise as a leading sorghum producer, the syrup waned in popularity with the spread of refined white sugar.

The rich, earthy, and slightly smoky taste of sorghum syrup is created by meticulously extracting and boiling down the sorghum cane juice. Sweeter and runnier than molasses, it's perfect for drizzling over buttered biscuits, enhancing baked goods, or adding depth to barbecue sauces and drinks. Embracing sorghum syrup is more than a culinary choice; it's a nod to the small farmers keeping a meaningful Southern tradition alive.

Also known as rice malt syrup, this thick, honey-hued liquid is derived from cooked rice or starch. It's mixed with enzymes such as barley malt powder or koji that break down the starches into simpler sugars, primarily maltose, leaving no fructose behind. The result is a sticky syrup that boasts a toasty and somewhat bland flavor profile compared to more intensely sweet syrups.

Often celebrated for its subtle sweetness, it can replace other sweeteners in a pinch. It makes an excellent corn syrup substitute, helping prevent crystallization in candies and marshmallows, and can be used as a vegan honey alternative. However, it's worth noting that it has a high glycemic index and is calorie-dense, making it less than ideal for those managing their blood sugar levels or caloric intake.

There's a reason dates bear the "nature's candy" moniker ─ they've been satisfying humans' sweet cravings for much longer than actual candy (or even sugar!) has been on the scene. Turning them into a natural, two-ingredient syrup was a matter of time. Blending dates with water, reducing the mixture over heat, and straining it produces a thick dark-brown liquid with trace amounts of minerals and antioxidants and a full-bodied caramel flavor. With that said, date syrup should be your go-to sweetener. Here's why.

For one, it's the sweetener you didn't know your coffee needed, complementing acidic Ethiopian varieties as well as chocolatey South American ones. It's also low on the glycemic index, making it a perfect breakfast addition. Finally, you can use it as a substitute for other sweeteners wherever a touch of caramel flavor is desired.

New England is not the only place to pride itself on its fruit juice reductions. In Turkey, syrups are made from a vast array of fruit, but none is as ubiquitous as üzüm pekmezi, or grape molasses, which predates sugar-based sweeteners. The filtered juice is given a calcareous treatment to reduce acidity and then boiled down. The resulting flavor is layered ─ sweet but slightly smoky and tangy, with a somewhat medicinal feel.

For inspiration on how to cook with grape molasses, look to Turkish cuisine. Mixed with tahini, it makes an absolutely delectable paste that can be used as a breakfast spread that will make you forget PB&J, or as a cake glaze. Mixed with bulgur and nuts, it creates a base for natural energy bars called üzüm tarhanası. And with plenty more uses to discover, the fun doesn't stop there!

Its French name hints that this syrup was barley-based initially, but the titular ingredient was dropped over time, and nuts took its place. Predictably, orgeat ─ pronounced or-zha ─ tastes nutty. Almonds are the most common choice, but peanuts, pistachios, and others provide flavorful twists and a signature creamy texture. Remember to always read the label before buying it: You don't want some artificially almond-flavored syrup to ruin your Mai Tais (and other orgeat cocktails).

If you can't find it at the store, homemade orgeat couldn't be easier to make: Whole and ground nuts or their milk can all serve as a base to be boiled down with sugar and a drop of orange blossom or rose water. Looking to make orgeat's flavor even richer? Use a blend of white and brown sugar.

Also known as Japanese black honey, this syrup is made from kokuto or kurozato, a type of unrefined mineral-rich brown sugar from Okinawa. The process involves dissolving kokuto in water and simmering until it's thick and molasses-like, albeit with a smoother, more delicate texture and a complex flavor profile that balances sweetness with subtle bitterness.

While you could use it like any other syrup that's lining your fridge door, it's best to connect it to other Japanese flavors. For example, some types of mochi, such as kuzu or warabi, are served with a drizzle of kuromitsu, which makes up for the lack of sweetness in the dessert. In the summer, it transforms shaved ice, known as kakigori. And, of course, the unique Japanese twist on whisky sour wouldn't be the same without kuromitsu.

Everyone knows about fruit-infused (or, more often, artificially flavored) syrups, but what about fruit scrap syrups? Not only are they a fantastic way to cut food waste, but they also add an inventive twist to your culinary endeavors.

Should you ever aim to make cocktail hour more sustainable, gather your fruit scraps ─ apple cores, citrus peels, bruised bits, you name it ─ and simmer them in equal parts water and sugar, allowing the mixture to reduce until it reaches a syrupy consistency. Alternatively, to make no-heat banana peel syrup, cover them with sugar and let the mixture macerate overnight, then blend and strain it. You can reuse your leftover pineapple core the same way. The result is a sweet, concentrated liquid that carries the nuanced flavors and aromas of the original fruits.