Chestnuts

"Chestnuts in stuffing tastes like someone chewed up a tree branch and then French-kissed it into your mouth." Daniel Handler

A somewhat offputting quote and a rather nice photograph I took of a guy selling roast chestnuts just opposite the Spanish Steps, seen on our very first trip to Italy. They sort of represent my attitude to chestnuts as a whole. I really don't like them - especially the creamy stuff that chefs seem to love. Well not Nigel actually who says of this form of chestnut:

"I must admit to being less than enthusiastic about chestnut purée, with its grainy texture and cloying, monotone flavour. Scooped from its tin in a brown-grey dollop, it is about as uninviting as food gets. Its resemblance to the cheaper varieties of cat food does not help."

And yet there's that romance of the roast chestnut, associated with Christmas, bonfire nights and people like the guy above who sell them in the streets. For me it's romance rather than enjoyment - mostly because my only encounter with roasted chestnuts was rather like Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's:

"There is technique and there is judgment, and without either there is every chance of ending up with a case of barbecued sausage syndrome - as in, burnt on the outside, raw in the middle."

Or, I vaguely remember, nothing in the middle. Gerard Manley Hopkins might beautifully insert them into his list of 'dappled things' as "Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls' but it wasn't for me. Well I enjoyed the process but not the taste, although apparently, although I don't remember, the process is a problem too, for Nigel as well who speaks of them as:

"Pulled from their shells by frayed nails, they are hot and mealy, and have a curious, floury taste"

No, for me, chestnuts meant conkers and you can't eat them, but there are plenty of them in England, but curiously not sweet chestnuts. Nigel has some horse-chestnut trees outside his house and wonders about this:

"I cannot help but think it unfair that the rest of Europe gets forests of sweet chestnuts to roast, toast and candy while the British get the conkers."

I started on chestnuts because today's Feast newsletter, written by Felicity Cloake, was all about chestnuts. Well it's Autumn over there and the season here, because we do in fact grow them in Australia - mostly in north-east Victoria, is long over - mid March to July.

Not that you will find them - even vacuum packed or puréed in your local supermarket here. You might have to look further afield.

Felicity's article immediately brought to mind that roasted chestnut seller in Rome, which, of course, brought up a whole lot of associated memories, and unassociated memories of holidays long ago, and childhood from even longer ago. The chestnut memories from back then are extremely vague - maybe a seller in a street somewhere - rather less glamorous and a bit like this one I think. Plus an even vaguer memory of not liking them. I vaguely remember a brown paper bag of them.

And then there are memories of being served various French delicacies as a real treat on my exchange holidays and having to admit that I really didn't like them, or was I more polite and forced them down?

Principle among those French treats was of course Mont Blanc - Monte Bianco to the Italians, of which Nigel, having compared chestnut purée to cat's food goes on to say:

"Yet it can be made into something special with a little gilding: you need to sweeten the brown mound with quite a lot of icing sugar, letting it down gently, then pile on softly whipped cream in the way they decorate their coffee in Viennese coffee houses, and then drizzle it with melted chocolate. Yes, a bit of a dog's dinner, but the French, who know it as Mont Blanc (and have been known to serve it in a meringue shell), simply adore it."

Yes indeed they do - that was the treat I was so often offered. I think in the end I admitted that I didn't like it. So if you are a fan of chestnut purée I found four recipes - French and Italian plus a variation - although to me that insistence on the ricing of the purée is even more repulsive and reminds me of chocolatey maggots. Guilluame Brahimi - an actual Frenchman - presented his Mont blanc as part of SBS's Plat du Tour. Rachel Roddy does it for the Italians with her Monte bianco and Jacob Kenedy - a British chef gave it his own particular twist to  Monte bianco with the addition of booze. Yotam Ottolenghi and Helen Goh decided, like me, that it didn't look that great - those wormy coils perhaps, and so made some Mont blanc tarts which they topped with caramelised pecans, which they felt was the missing touch. It certainly looks a whole lot better.

Plat du Tour and Guillaume Brahimi also found another sweet chestnut dish - this time a cake called Le Carpeaux de Valenciennes named for a Valenciennes local artist and featuring almonds and hazelnuts as well. The chestnuts were the cream that sandwiches the cake.

The Italians also have a cake called Castagnaccio which Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall tells us is a denser thing and doesn't really rise like a cake - being made with chestnut flour, orange, rosemary and olive oil, plus pine nuts. I've made cakes with ordinary flour and the other ingredients and they were delicious, but I'm not sure what chestnut flour would do for it. Although of course chestnut flour - hard to find and artisanal/gourmet - was of course a reliable source of flour for peasants in hard times. Guy Grossi - uses it to make pancakes - with chestnut honey - yes you can get that too - pine nuts and rosemary - Chestnut flour pancakes with honey, pine nuts and rosemary/SBS.

Definitely moving into beige territory here. Although there were lots of other sweet recipes that involved chocolate, which Nigel seemed to think was a good pairing.

To conclude the sweet section here is a recipe which I could even be tempted to try - well it's Ottolenghi and it looks gorgeous - but then I'm probably being sucked in by the photographer and stylist rather than the cook, much as I'm a huge fan - Plum chestnut and walnut tart The chestnuts, along with the walnuts form part of the frangipane base. You need cooked chestnuts that get ground up.

So on to the savoury section. Well they are just a nut aren't they? Possibly of more interest to me as well, as these recipes tend to use the nuts rather than the flour or the purée.

Jamie Oliver was the star here - I found four of interest, two of them involving Brussels sprouts - Chestnut brussels sprouts pie - the pie crust being the chestnut component here - chestnut flour - and Sprout and potato gratin with chestnut crumb which combine them with another unloved ingredient - Brussels sprouts. Then there was Chestnut carbonara and Squash, sage and chestnut rolls which can be found on the delicious. website.

Thomasina Miers also seemed to think that brassicas were a good fit with her Charred cabbage with Jerusalem artichokes and chestnuts which was featured in The Guardian. Mushrooms and pumpkin were other favourite pairings. Stuffings, too were common so once again I give you Ottolenghi - Roast poussins stuffed with chestnuts, pancetta and pear and Guillaume Brahimi, although the chestnut component here is relatively minor - a butter with which to decorate a soup - Artichoke velouté with beurre noisette

I shouldn't really have written about chestnuts. It's not the season here, I don't like them and whilst you can get water chestnuts in the supermarkets you can't get anything 'proper' chestnut. It's sort of strange how the mere mention of an ingredient you really don't care for, can nevertheless summon up memories of happy times in childhood, Guy Fawkes night bonfires - just a week ago - and sunny holidays in Italy - where those chestnuts on sale in late May were surely out of season too.

"Chestnuts are delicacies for princes and a lusty and masculine food for rusticks, and able to make women well-complexioned." John Evelyn

I don't know where that last bit of advice comes from.

Back to the oh so trendy and becoming boring recipes from The New York Times. Yesterday's effort was this salad with a real mix of ingredients from different cuisines. I should probably buy a packet of crispy shallots.

YEARS GONE BY

November 14

2024 - Great title - Good food on Bad Plates

2023 - Take five - from maths to Jamie

2022 - Weeding

2021 - Panko

2020 - Missing

2019 - Potato cakes

2018 - Goat's cheese

2017 - Nothing

2016 - A word from Beverley Sutherland Smith