Chestnut Season: When Switzerland Smells of Roasted Chestnuts

The moment the first plumes of blue smoke rise from the round tin roasting drums on Zurich's Bahnhofstrasse or in front of Basel's market square, you know: autumn has properly arrived. The sweet, faintly smoky smell of roasted chestnuts belongs to Switzerland just as much as mist over the Mittelland or the first snow on the peaks. For many, the small paper bag of hot chestnuts warming cold hands is one of the most honest pleasures of the season – no fuss, just fire, chestnut, and patience.

Marroni, chestnut, horse chestnut – what's actually what?

Anyone standing under a chestnut tree in the park, gathering the spiky green shells, should look closely before tossing them in the pan. Only the fruit of the sweet chestnut (Castanea sativa) is edible – the far more common horse chestnut (Aesculus hippocastanum) produces similar-looking fruit, but it is inedible and mildly toxic. A simple trick helps: sweet chestnut leaves are long, narrow and toothed, tapering to a point, while horse chestnut leaves are large and hand-shaped. And strictly speaking, «marroni» aren't just chestnuts at all, but a refined, larger and sweeter cultivated variety – recognisable by a single seed per shell rather than several small ones.

The «bread of the poor» in Ticino

Nowhere in Switzerland is the chestnut as deeply rooted as south of the Gotthard. For centuries in Ticino it was not a festive treat but a staple food – «il pane dei poveri», the bread of the poor, as it was known there. Dried and ground into flour, the chestnut fed entire mountain valleys through long winters, in years when grain barely grew on the steep slopes. The so-called «selve castanili» – centuries-old, terraced chestnut groves – still shape large parts of the Ticino landscape today and are regarded as living cultural heritage.

To this day Ticino celebrates this bond with its own «sagre della castagna», chestnut festivals in villages such as Ascona or in the Malcantone, when the first fruit ripens in October. There, marroni are roasted together, chestnut flour is turned into polenta or bread, and old recipes are passed on – a piece of everyday culture that was tradition long before any food trend.

A disease that changed almost everything

In the 20th century, chestnut blight, introduced from Asia, killed off large parts of the population, and ink disease followed later. Many groves grew wild as tending the trees stopped paying off. Only in recent decades have volunteers, associations and heritage conservation begun clearing and caring for the old chestnut groves again – partly because people came to realise how much biodiversity and cultural history hangs on these gnarled old trees.

Did you know? The classic Swiss autumn dessert «vermicelles» owes its name to the fine «little worms» of pressed chestnut purée. The cooked chestnut mixture is pushed through a press with fine holes – out come thin, worm-like strands that pile loosely into a small mountain, traditionally crowned with a cap of whipped cream.

Roasting at home: easier than you'd think

At home, marroni can be prepared without any tin drum at all. The most important step first: score a cross into the rounded side of each fruit, for example with the Chestnut Knife Class – otherwise the chestnuts can burst open while heating. After that, 20 to 25 minutes in a hot oven at around 200 degrees is enough, until the shell splits open and peels away easily. For a more rustic approach, roast the marroni in a perforated pan over an open fire – a garden fire quickly turns into a cosy autumn gathering. One simple trick helps when buying: if a chestnut floats to the surface in a bowl of water, it's usually already dried out inside or has a small worm – only the ones that sink to the bottom are worth roasting.

Time for the first bag of the season

Whether hot from the pan, as a creamy soup, or piled high as vermicelles with cream – marroni season invites you to enjoy autumn with all your senses. And to make scoring the cross easy, you'll find the Chestnut Knife Class in our shop. What does chestnut season mean most to you – the hot bag on the street, or vermicelles at home?