The Emilie Loring Collection

“My sales resistance is lowered to the point of juvenility when it comes to those heavenly triplets, mushrooms, marrons, and meringues.”  It’s a Great World

I had absolutely no idea what marrons were when I first read this line. And for someone who generally looks up words she doesn’t know, I waited an extraordinarily long time to investigate this one.

Marrons are sweet chestnuts, Castanea sativa. They can be roasted, or they can be soaked in sugar syrup and vanilla to make marrons glacés, a French treat. I wonder if Emilie first tried them when she was in Paris. That’s a romantic notion. A special food to go with a special memory.

Doing a bit of Christmas shopping, I stopped in at Au Marché, a European market, and right in front of me, pure serendipity, was a bright orange box: MARRONS GLACÉS. “Here’s my chance!” I thought.

The box was pretty, no ordinary cardboard creation. No, this was made of wood, and the design was painted on, not glued. Nice.

I turned it over to check the price. “Imported from France. $49.00.” Seriously?! I set it down and started to walk away but then stopped. I have wondered about marrons for, truly, decades. Was I really going to just leave them there? It’s the holidays, after all, and gosh, isn’t it a good thing to treat oneself now and then? I’ve gone years without trying marrons. When will I have a better chance?

Ooooh! (And here’s where you made my case for me) I can write about it on the blog. Why, it’s almost a public service!

I plunked down the… no, actually, I tapped my card and left the shop the proud owner of a beautiful box of marrons glacés. Good job, Patti.

I wonder how many there are inside? The box is about five by nine, and nuts aren’t very big… maybe twenty? more?

Carefully, I pried off that pretty lid.

Oh, there’s gold foil packaging inside. That makes sense, keeps them fresh. But it looks like there might not be as many treats inside as I thought.

I opened the end and slipped out a classy, sculpted carrier.

Eight. There are eight chestnuts inside. My calculation was quick. At six dollars apiece, these must be some kind of treat! At last, I was going to set eyes on them.

I lifted the lid.

Well, this is just funny. You’ve got to hand it to them. My anticipation was at its peak. What do they say? It’s not just the food, it’s the experience! (But if there’s another wrapping inside…)

I laughed out loud when I saw the gleam of more foil. But not to worry. It was just the base for the star of our show to rest upon–inside its wrapper, inside its case, inside its foil packaging, inside its wooden box. Marrons glacés are clearly the Russian dolls of dessert delicacies.

But at last, it was here. “Mushrooms, marrons, and meringues… ” One of the heavenly triplets.

Have you tried them? What would you expect? It’s a nut, right? And it’s soaked in vanilla syrup, which accounts for how sticky it is. Too late, I wondered if I should have a little glass of champagne to accompany the experience. I took a bite.

Hmmmp… Well, that’s interesting. Very sweet, syrupy sweet, not a lot of vanilla coming through, and I’m searching for the nut… Of course, the whole thing is the chestnut, softened by four days of soaking. I’ve had roasted chestnuts, and I wouldn’t say there’s much resemblance to these. This texture is like a soft gumdrop, but not quite that chewy, and the closest thing to its flavor might be… frosting?

“Mushrooms, marrons, and meringues.” Did she mean the roasted ones? No, she calls those roasted chestnuts. She had to mean these.

Emilie found them “heavenly.” If I saw them on a party tray, I’d have one, but I don’t think I’ll buy them again.

I’m keeping the box.

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Merry Christmas

and

Happy Landings, everyone!