one of the unexpected thrills, for an american, of living within an hour’s drive of the mediterranan, is the occasional glimpse it provides into a world that was flourishing a couple of thousand years before the declaration of independence. the chestnuts ripening on the trees along our leisurely afternoon drive today would have been completely familiar to a roman soldier, marching wherever caesar had sent him this time. his dinner that night would very possibly have been a porridge of ground and boiled chestnuts. i only hope he enjoyed it. and i hope he finished his meal the way we just did. with a cup or two of wine.

châtaignes (edible sweet chestnuts) castanea sativa

valley of the river orb, colombes, languedoc, france

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