Chestnuts roasting somehow
It’s time for Heissi Marroni
Hello ReSwissed readers,
Recently, two Catherines pledged to support ReSwissed. Thanks Cathy and Kitty! This will remain a free newsletter for now. I love writing ReSwissed, because it forces me to try to answer different questions I have about Swiss and German culture, like what’s up with Grättimaa and where did Fasnachtscheuchli come from? Finding those answers and forming them into coherent thoughts does take time and some money (gotta try the Grättimaa and Fasnachtschüechli, after all). So if you’re enjoying ReSwissed and would like to support its research and writing, I’m turning on Substack’s payment options and thank you wholly for your one-time or on-going pledge.
Now let’s talk about chestnuts.
When the days start getting chilly in Basel, the ice cream vendors throughout the city disappear, replaced by marroni stands. We’re currently in that in-between time, where it’s cold in the mornings but 70 in the afternoons, and you should probably get the warm clothes out but maybe it’s going to get hot again. The Basel food stand equivalent of this means there are both ice cream stalls and at least one Marronimaa (Marroni Man) out.
My only American association with this nut is Nat King Cole’s The Christmas Song. You know, chestnuts roasting on the open fire?
I have never once seen a chestnut, or a marroni, roasting that way here or in the US. Occasionally they popped up in a grocery store around the holidays. Gabe and I bought some once in Louisville and tried roasting them on the contained fire of our oven. They were ok. A sad reminder of what’s so easily obtained throughout Swiss cities in the colder months, because, as you might conclude from a chestnut man appearing in September, chestnuts are not only a Christmastime treat here.
While I haven’t seen an open fire, I’m not sure what goes on in the marroni carts to get the chestnut shells to split open and the chesnut itself to toast. I think a metal plate separates the fire and the chestnuts. The vendors sell them by weight and you receive your 50 or 400 grams of chestnuts in a clever paper bag with an attached compartment for the shells. Then you’ve got a city strolling snack that doubles as a hand warmer.
In German, chestnuts are Kastanien. Rosskastanien are horse chestnuts. In Swiss German, we use Ross instead of Pferd for horse, and it’s pronounced with a short “oh” sound, not like Ross from Friends. Ess- or Edelkastanien are sweet chestnuts, and unlike the horse chestnut, which grows on the horse chestnut tree, Esskastanien trees belong to the same family as beech trees. Essen means to eat, and edel can mean fine, or high-grade. For example, Edelstein are gems, so Edelkastanien are high-quality chestnuts. Chestnuts you’d want to eat, not like those horse chestnuts. Finally, marroni are the most widely available type of edible chestnut, at least according to SwissMilk, and they are larger, sweeter, tastier, and easier to peel than sweet chestnuts.
Humans seem to have been propagating chestnut trees as early as 2500 BCE in Iran, though there is also evidence that the tree was used in the Neolithic period in Italy1 (I don’t know names of times, but the Smithsonian cites that period as lasting from 7000-1700 BCE). Chestnuts got to Switzerland thanks to the Romans, who used the tree for its wood, but the nut increasingly began to be used for food. In southern Switzerland and other places, the chestnut became known as “the bread of the poor,” writes Gottardo Pestalozzi.
“With the planting of chestnut trees throughout Europe, the Roman Empire laid the foundation for the medieval chestnut culture,” Pestalozzi says. At least one part of medieval chestnut culture included monasteries accepting tithes of chestnuts.
Today, I don’t think anyone will accept chestnuts as payment and instead, I’m paying the Chesnut Man for chestnuts. They seem to be a symbol of fall: candied chestnuts and milk chocolate with a layer of chestnut cream appeared in the store recently. While heissi marroni, hot chestnuts, are only available in the fall and winter, you can find chestnut puree year round. The most common form is in a dessert called “Vermicelles.” Vermicelles, or little worms, is chesnut purée pushed through a press so it comes out like spaghetti. I love hot chestnuts, but you’ll never catch me ordering Vermicelles for dessert.
I have a feeling chestnuts will appear again in a future newsletter. I, for one, would like to learn more about the medieval chestnut culture. If you enjoyed this, hazelnuts are also a big nut here, and one I love perhaps more than any nut. Let me know if you’d enjoy a hazelnut deep-dive.
Sources
Die Edelkastanie in der Schweiz
Hot Roasted Chestnuts Called “Marroni”
Inventory of Chestnut Research, Germplasm, and References
The Roman History of the Chestnut Culture
The Roman Legacy on European Chestnut and Walnut Arboriculture
Unterschied Marroni und Kastanien?
Krebs, Patrik, Fabiano Ulmke, Willy Tinner, and Marco Conedera. 2022. “The Roman Legacy on European Chestnut and Walnut Arboriculture.” Environmental Archaeology, November, 1–22. doi:10.1080/14614103.2022.2137648.
I especially appreciate the research you put in here; otherwise how would I have known there was an Inventory of Chesnut Research and Germplasm? Lovely. (Maronnier or chesnut trees I think line the banks of the Thames in parts of London (I remember seeing them? with spiky fruit?) and it's something I recall on a lot of creperie menus - like Nutella - you'd order in France in the fall too - and roasted chesnuts is the smell I associate with NYC near Xmas - that used to be a thing, anyway, carts of hot chesnuts near Rockefeller Center and tourist areas at night - tho maybe not so much now.)
Oh, btw, I have a lovely recipe for a cookie stuffed with chestnut paste. Haven't made it in a long time; maybe I should try it again.