Spotted:

Every time I travel to Italy and find myself in a dusk-lit piazza full of strolling locals, I want so much to want the hot little wares from those tin drum ovens that litter the night. So romantic, those glistening, rosewood-patterned chestnuts with their little nubbly hats. So tempting the smell of them as they bounce about atop the fire. So utterly disgusting the ghastly white flesh inside, tasting only of vague sweetness and mealy starch like dehydrated larva sticking to your tongue. It's enough to make you want to deny this country and refuse its little sweetmeats.

I've always hated the fact that I can't stand chestnuts. Then, finally, someone took the time to do them right. My friend Meghan, in town from Switzerland and having just picked and roasted fresh perfect chestnuts there, blah, blah, blah, went to the market here in America to find suitable specimens. Most chestnuts, by the time they make U.S. markets, are old and dry, which only enhances their extra-starchy texture. Ergo mealiness. Choose chestnuts the way you would a melon. They should feel as heavy as they look, have a tiny bit of weight to them. The skin should be soft and give a little without feeling like it will crack. When in doubt, ask the vendor if the nuts are suitable for roasting, preferably with a look that says "If you ruin my night by the fire I will haunt you till the end of days."

Once home, nuts in hand, preheat oven to 400°. Before you put the chestnuts in the oven, use a strong, sharp knife (preferably a pairing knife) to carve a nice sized "X" into the flatter side of the chestnut. Chestnuts have two skins — the outer shell and an inner skin that requires a little bit of picking around to remove thoroughly when eating. (Japanese chestnuts have fantastic flavor, but this second skin can be extra tough to remove.) You'll have a much easier time removing the goods after having performed this step. Also, they'll explode if you don't.

The texture will still seem a bit strange for a nut, not quite as creamy and very similar to how garbanzo beans compare with their cousins. You can eat them straight from the shell or sauté them in a little caramelized sugar for a super-easy dessert or a topping for roasted squash. A good chestnut may be harder to find, but it's a thrill to roast.

Maggie Savarino Dutton is an industry veteran who has played bartender, sommelier and line cook and who now consults. She writes "Search & Distill," which appears every Wednesday in the Seattle Weekly, and maintains The Wine Offensive, her blog about wine, food, and anything else that might be discussed over the bar.

Photograph by Maggie Savarino Dutton, "Point of Purchase" photograph by Roadsidepictures via Flickr (Creative Commons), "Pantry" photograph by Áslaug Snorradóttir.