At the grocery store last Friday, an 8-ounce mesh bag of Italian chestnuts jumped into my cart. I've been keeping an eye out for chestnuts - you don't see them just anywhere anymore. I bristled at the $6 pricetag, but it's a once-a-year autumnal fix for me, so I splurged. Soup Husband Curt "doesn't care for them" (which is what he initially told me about cilantro, which he later admitted he finds repulsive).
Tonight I scored a few with an X and roasted them in the oven (for lack of an open fire on the premises tonight), and shared them with The Boss. He liked them. Then I started waxing nostalgic about how much I liked them when I was a kid. This was when Ross quietly excused himself from the room. But you're stuck here, so you get to suffer through hear the story:
My Great Uncle Roy (Grandma Sara's brother) gave us two chestnut trees when my dad died. We planted them, and they grew and grew and, after a few years, bore chestnuts encased in prickly orbs that were fun to mow over:
Thanks, Wikipedia, for both of these photos
So to me, chestnuts hold memories of a thoughtful uncle who shared our loss and whose gesture during a painful time stays with me, even though I've long since moved away from where those two trees grow.
Those trees put down scores of chestnuts and we could eat 'em all FOR FREE. We braved risk of stabbing our digits with those pointy outsides to get to the delicious nugget inside. Used to be, you could buy 'em for cheap by the paper bagful. But where are the chestnut trees in Maryland? And why was the only bag of chestnuts I could find in the grocery store imported from ITALY?
I decided to Google the venerable chestnut to see what I could learn.
"Heh heh heh, heh heh heh," said Soup Husband Curt who, confirming the rumors, remains a 12 year old boy trapped in a 44 year old man's body. "You said CHEST-NUT."
Among the sponsored ads and search results were the following:
Peeled, roasted chestnuts. A vendor selling peeled, roasted chestnuts. Because roasting and peeling them yourself is such an odious task? I mean, isn't that the fun of roasting them yourself?
Bring back the chestnut. A tree farm (nursery) whose mission is clear. (Hyperlinked because they have interesting historical info about the chestnut - go, read!)
Chestnut Roasting Pan. A "gourmet" cookware vendor who sells a long-handled metal pan with small holes in the bottom, useful for roasting chestnuts over an open fire.
French chestnuts. Imported from France, I suppose. Fancy.
Now I should admit here that in my world, chestnuts were never, ever something we added to anything that was stuffed into the cavity of a turkey and roasted on Thanksgiving. We are stuffing purists (and it's stuffing, not dressing, dammit) - bread with sauteed celery and onions and some seasonings is really the only appropriate thing to serve with a large fowl on the fourth Thursday in November. But I realize, in some parts, "chestnut dressing" is traditional. But, to me, the ONLY thing to do is to roast chestnuts, then peel and eat them plain.
What are your memories of chestnuts, or your recipes or recommendations, or sources for cheap chestnuts in Maryland or PA? Please share in the comments.
