Casual Conversation: A Gift from Fairy Tales

A city child's memory holds that chestnuts were something only found in fairy tales, or associated with the image of adorable squirrels in cartoons.

As a child, I dreamed of touching those spiky, densely packed nuts, like hedgehog quills. But that remained a distant dream, as far-fetched as the golden oak trees that only appeared in foreign literature or films. For a long time, I equated chestnuts with golden oak trees. I could only see them, never hold them in my hands.

But then one day, I was astonished to realize I was truly a half-baked Saigon resident. Because that strange nut had already appeared in real life, present on the streets of downtown Saigon for a long time, and I had never even noticed. One chilly evening, when I discovered a steaming pan of salted roasted chestnuts amidst the glittering lights and bustling chatter of the crowds, I stood there in awe for a long time. Oh, a fairy tale! Right before my eyes! The fairy tale wasn't just in the form of that spiky fruit, but also in its aroma, swirling and lingering around my nose.

The middle-aged man's cast-iron pan was chipped in many places around the rim. The chips were unsightly. Why didn't they invest in a proper, more aesthetically pleasing pan? But look, the chips were only a small part, not enough to hold my attention any longer. What was hidden in the pinch of golden-brown salt in the pan was what really interested me. The vendor said it was Trung Khanh chestnuts ( from Cao Bang ), first-grade, the best kind, picked from clusters of ripe chestnuts that had naturally cracked open and fallen to the ground. The chestnuts were glossy brown; if they moved, I would have thought they were snails. But there were also some chestnut vendors on the streets around Notre Dame Cathedral selling chestnuts imported from Thailand. These looked bigger, rounder, and more appealing, less fatty, less flavorful, and not as firm as the Trung Khanh chestnuts from Vietnam.

Under the two layers of sand, skillfully and precisely stirred by strong hands, the chestnuts bobbed up and down rhythmically. Each chestnut cracked open, revealing the golden-brown flesh inside, invitingly. Butter mixed with the chestnuts, meeting the heat of the glowing charcoal in the pan, released its fragrant aroma into the bustling city. Dozens of eager eyes, both children and adults, were glued to the pan of roasting chestnuts, their anticipation palpable. Occasionally, the dark, salted grains would crackle and splatter onto customers' hands. A few excited shouts rang out, followed by bursts of laughter as they received their bags of fragrant roasted chestnuts.

In the southern city, the cool breeze is a blessing as the year draws to a close. The chill is just enough to invite people to gather around a simple street vendor's cart selling roasted chestnuts. Hands reach out around the charcoal stove, the chestnuts sizzling in the hot pan, basking in the warmth. The warmth emanating from the charcoal and the glossy brown chestnuts seem like something out of a fairy tale, right in the heart of the city.

Saigon nights are made more beautiful by smiles: smiles on people's faces and smiles from a pile of fairytale seeds.

Source: https://thanhnien.vn/nhan-dam-mon-qua-tu-co-tich-18525103119093553.htm