I've had a lot of noise in my head the past week or so. It's amazing how you can mentally torture yourself when you are left to your own devices and spend your entire day with a toddler. So a breakfast with the ladies this morning was a fabulous distraction.
So, chestnuts... have you ever tasted them? The age-old Christmas carol about roasting chestnuts by the fire, and yet I had never tried one until I moved here to Germany. Germans call these fancy nuts, Marone, and they are literally everywhere. The kids collect them as they fall into piles off the trees. And then merchants roast them in the Christmas markets so that you can eat these warm morsels while sipping on Gluhwein.
Ok, so that's how I envisioned my roasted chestnut experience. Last year my fabulous German neighbors took me into town to explore the Adventsmarkt and the Weinachtsmarkt in Bamberg (I'm so excited that it's almost Christmas market season here again!). Among other fun traditions we made together at the market that we will most definitely be repeating this year, she encouraged me to buy some Marone. Everyone in Germany eats them, and it's a must to try. So, I did. I have to be honest though, I wasn't terribly excited about them.
And you are wondering how this ties into my breakfast this morning? True to a breakfast with fantastic ladies, our conversations were all over the place from fashion to, yes, chestnuts (and actual chestnuts here, try not to get too creative with your thoughts on this one). We were sharing our experiences with chestnuts (again, the nuts, the ones that fall off of trees that squirrels eat - get those heads out of the gutter, people). Those of us who had tried roasted chestnuts were a big fan. All except for me. Why didn't I like them? I couldn't get past the casing around the nut. The inside seemed gooey and sweet, but the outside was too much work to chew.
Enter a complete laughter explosion from the table. If you ever get a chance to try roasted chestnuts, don't be an idiot like I was. Take the chestnut out of the shell. Seriously. I ate over half a bag of Marone with the shell on the nut. Hello?! I'm a genius. As Kimberly so sweetly pointed out, it's amazing I didn't lose any teeth!
In case you were wondering, I do plan on giving chestnuts another try. Maybe Big R will actually try them this year, too, since he was skeptical after I told him I didn't think he'd be a fan. Hilarious, right? He'll truly appreciate this story today more than most because I had to call him after he dropped me off downtown for my breakfast to ask him how to get to the cafe. This a cafe I have been to half a dozen times, and I somehow managed to get turned around and...lost. I know, me lost? Never... Oh the sweet horror. Thank goodness for patient husbands. Our following text conversation was comical. I laughed at myself as he proceeded to tell me not only the bus line that I'll need to catch to head home, but also what the bus looks like. HA! You are a funny guy, honey, and I SO totally deserved that.
Sometimes all it takes is a little comic relief to calm the noise in your head.