Never a frown with Golden Brown…
It seemed almost a shame to have to cook these beautiful chestnuts – their skins were smooth as pebbles and seemed so full of promise. We used to buy these off the street – freshly roasted over a layer of coffee beans, and carry them home packaged in several layers of newspaper. A few would be sacrificed on the trip home; hot blistery shells no threat to nimble fingers and hungry eyes.
I bought a bag of these from the local vegetable shop the other day. In my excitement, I neglected to pierce some of the shells properly. In the 200 degree oven 20 minutes later, FOOM! something in my oven exploded. I peered through the glass door in surprise. FOOM! again.. shrapnel falling! Killed the heat to stop triggering the explosions. Tilted the oven door open and approached very very cautiously, in crouching tiger mode, a large tea towel in hand. Luckily they had calmed down, but there was chestnut dust plastered to every conceivable corner of the oven. (Oh but the smell of that chestnut dust!) I did a bit of a Homer/Aunt Hortense, with the oh boo hoo hoo look at all that mess boo hoo mmm they taste so good hoo mess hoo hoo mmmmm…
