Growing up in an island in the Caribbean, one rarely experiences seasonal change. Sure, there are certain flowers that bloom in May, and certain fruits that do best in the Summer, but it's pretty much hot and muggy all the time, and the vegetation is lush and colorful year round. Maybe because of that, I have always been fascinated by the changing seasons. I remember my first fall in Hyde Park NY. It was so energizing and fascinating to see the colors change almost daily, and to see in one street, several different colored trees, and the contrast of their leaves against the blue or grey sky. We lived close to a national park named Burger Hill, and I would go on early morning hikes to see the foliage from the top of the hill. Breathtaking.
When I moved to San Francisco, although the weather patterns were quite different than those of the island, the seasons were still not very pronounced when it comes to temperature. Food, however, was a completely different story. I learned to recognize the seasons based on what fruits and vegetables were available at the farmers market, and as years passed, and I became more and more familiar with them, I was able to anticipate the arrival of some of my favorite based on what month or week it was.
Eating seasonally and locally have become quite the trends in our day and age. It seems as if both words are thrown at us left and right in devious marketing schemes, meant to promote companies and benefit shareholders.
However, eating locally and seasonally really is good for us: If we really try to go back to basics and focus on procuring the bulk of our food from local sources we will therefore support small businesses and our local economy and community. And as far as the seasonal goes, we can get so much more from our food by committing to enjoying what is available now.
Let me explain. I grew up in an island where apples can't properly grow. Due to imports, we could buy apples back home. My mom rarely did, but my aunt always did. Falling true to the human adage of "the grass is always greener" my brothers and I always wanted apples. However, I don't actually remember ever enjoying one until I finally had an apple from an orchard in Vermont. The ones from my childhood were bruised and mealy, and the skin would peel off from the flesh when you bit into them. They were dry, and honestly didn't really taste like much (no comparison to our sweet, juicy, flavor exploding mangoes, papayas or pineapples...). So, eating apples in the Dominican, that have been picked weeks prior to being sold, hundreds or thousands of miles away, is not a very flavorful experience.
On the nutrition front, we are on the same boat. When fruits and vegetables are at their peak of ripeness, they are at their fullest of nutrients. From a biological standpoint, if allowed to grow and mature on the plant, they will develop the most nutrients possible, indulging in their natural processes, taking what they need from the soil, water and sun in order to thrive. The moment they are picked, their nutrient content starts to slowly diminish, as they no longer have these sources of energy to allow them to live. Basically, once they are picked, they are dead. And the closest you can eat them to when they are alive, the most you can get from them.
Then there is the variety aspect. When we always eat the same things, we always get the same nutrients. So in order to meet most of our nutritional needs from our food, it is imperative to eat a variety of foods. If we eat seasonally, once again, there is no choice but to switch things up. In doing so, not only do we benefit from a health point of view, but also from a creativity stance. Much like the changing seasons, which make you notice a tree that you never had before when it's in bloom or when it's leaves are changing from a certain shade of green to countless shades of yellow or orange, eating seasonally makes you get out of your comfort zone and eat fruits and vegetables that you might have never thought of before, and in turn discover something you might love. And then, you get to enjoy it for the season, and look forward to next year, when it shows up at the market again.
Last week, there were some chestnuts in the CSA box. I have probably had chestnuts only a handful of times before, and it has almost always been at a restaurant. Having no idea how to approach the hard shelled little balls, they have always been a mystery to me. A very delicious one, but still, a mystery. I remember my first thanksgiving in the states, at my friend E's family's home in upstate NY, we roasted some chestnuts. For whatever reason, the procedure completely escapes my mind, and all I can remember about the cooking process is looking at E's back as he pulled the chestnuts out of the oven, their sweet scent filling the air.
This week, more chestnuts arrived. I decided to tackle the task at hand and researched a bit on the best way to cook them. To my surprise, it's not time consuming or hard at all. After about 10 minutes of preparation, and 45 minutes of roasting time, I had some amazing roasted chestnuts to snack on. I was happy I finally challenged myself to cooking them.
Below is the recipe for this tasty little treat. I hope this post will encourage you to notice your patterns and habits, in relationship to both food and life, and to try to break at least one of them, at least once. You might be pleasantly surprised from what you might find.
Roasted Chestnuts
2 handfuls Chestnuts (sorry, that was my measurement...)
2 TB Butter, melted
1 sprig Rosemary, coarsely chopped
Salt and Espelette Pepper to taste (you can use cayenne or paprika instead)
Preheat the oven to 400.
Using a small, but sharp paring knife, core the chestnuts on their round side, forming an x.
Submerge them in a bowl of hot water (to help steam them). Drain and pat dry. Line a cast iron pan with a large piece of foil. Toss the chestnuts in the butter and rosemary. Generously season with the salt and Espelette.
Place in the middle of the foil piece, and crunch up the edges to form a pouch, leaving a large opening at the top.
Bake for 30 to 45 minutes, or until the skins start to peel off from the inside of the chestnuts. Enjoy!
