October 21

Roughly ten years ago, the town planted hybrid versions of the Great American Chestnut, the once mighty giant which had been decimated by the blight in the mid twentieth century. Nearly fifty seedlings were placed in a protective area of Moore State Park, cordoned off and allowed to grow.

Three weeks ago I made a point of checking the trees, for I recall last year that several showed signs of producing nut casings after ten years of growth. The seedlings had matured to nearly 25-foot tall adolescents, and had reached the point of reproduction.

Today I returned to discover that certain individuals had created and dropped their nut casings, which now lay strewn about on the ground, opened from having dried in the sun and causing the nuts to have jostled loose.

The casings of chestnuts are formidable in appearance and in design. They are notably spiked, resembling the spiny shell of a sea urchin and roughly the same size. The spines are dangerously prickly and difficult to even hold gingerly in your hand. Each casing is designed to house 3 chestnuts, and these are similar in appearance to the buckeye nut, medium brown with an oval patch that is faded at the point where it connects to the casing. They are more kernel shaped than the buckeye and similarly hard shelled.

I gathered roughly thirty nuts and brought them home. American Chestnuts, ready for me to try roasting just as the familiar song from my youth were Nat King Cole tells of roasting on the open fire.

I slit the end of each nut, placed them in the oven for 15 minutes, and allowed them to cool just enough to safely handle, then quickly pealed the outer hard shell to reveal the pale yellow meat within.

They tasted like a sweetened potato, with a similar texture - warm and Earthy in a way.