"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire ... Jack Frost nipping on your nose."
It's just a cheesy holiday song, right? Nobody actually roasts chestnuts on open fires, come on! And the Jack Frost nipping thing? Freaky! Never gonna happen. Right?
Wrong. It happens. And it's awesome.*
Skyline Chestnut Orchard, perched 2000 feet above the Pacific Ocean on the knife's edge of Skyline Boulevard, is like some sort of Bay area Brigadoon, appearing for a few magical weeks each autumn out of the fog and mist of the redwood-covered mountains, opening its tree-lined treasures to the adventurous and the young at heart who still believe in Santa Claus and Christmas miracles and all the rest.
If you can find this place (and I will not help you), you will drive up a dirt and gravel rutted road to a simple parking and picnic area. There, you will meet a tall man who will exit an RV and hand you gloves and buckets and point you in the direction of the chestnut trees. Then, you are on your own.
The chestnuts burst from their spiny, sea urchin like shells when ripe and fall softly to the ground. You can collect them in great handfuls. We left with 8.5 lbs. And we could have collected more.
You can also hike to the top of the orchard and exit the preserve to a lonely dirt path, named Castaña Road (what else?), where you will be treated to one of the best and most hidden vista points in all the Santa Cruz Mountains. Black Mountain and the East Bay Hills to the east, Butano Ridge, Portola Redwoods SP, and the Pacific Ocean to your West. On a gray, windswept mid-October afternoon, with thick cloud banks rolling in from the water, it is sublime beyond description. Ethereal comes to mind.
Then, you can leave the orchard with the chestnuts, with chestnut honey (worth the $15 cost), a chestnut knife ($10, for making an "X" before roasting or baking or boiling them), and a heavy metal chestnut roasting pan with long handle (made in Italy, $26 for the big one). This you can use to roast your chestnuts over an open fire - literally!
That's exactly what we did: the rain was falling outside, the open fire was crackling and red aglow, we placed the scored chestnuts in the pan and the pan on the burning embers, and - magic! - they roasted and popped and taste mighty fine. We'll be using them in all sorts of ways over the coming days and weeks, from desserts to breads to spreads to filling for stuffed sourdough pancakes. And we'll keep the memories of our afternoon spent chestnut picking for a lifetime.
This Brigadoon won't last much longer - come soon, or lose your chance to experience the reality of Nat King Cole's famous song. Forever.
(*) To MacRae O., who likes her nuts. And lots of other cool stuff, too! read more