The smell is unmistakable and always makes me pay attention. All you need to do is follow your nose and then you can be holding a bag of roasted chestnuts in your hand.
It always takes me back. Before now and here, the last time I had some was in Geneva. It was the first time I had been there, yet my memory and my sense of smell knew what it was before I could even think it. Des châtaignes grillées. I was so excited and happy and almost couldn't believe it.
A specific time in my life. A specific time of the year. A specific place. Even the specific setup where the chestnuts were cooked, out in the open on the street.
From the paper bag to my mouth, the de-shelling and sometimes separating of the chestnuts between my fingers is all part of the experience. Roasted chestnuts have a certain texture and they're filling. Yet I can't stop eating them once I've started. They're warm and easy to de-shell, the only waste you have is the shell and nothing else. It's a pretty effortless and 'lazy' cleanup once you've finished eating.
Delicious.
- A.M.
