The task… to prepare dinner for my mother and father who had spent the previous evening in emerge, part of my mom’s index finger in a dish on my dad’s lap. The benefits of sharp knives aside, even the most skilled cooks have to be careful!
February blahs, grey skies and local produce scarce, I turned to memories of summer to find inspiration to treat my parents to a recovery meal. In July, Alex and I ventured across the border to Chicago. We spent our days and nights wandering, exploring, and taking in the city littered with public art and open air markets. It was fabulous. We stayed with my cousin and had access to a big kitchen to prepare fresh meals full of farmers’ market goodies. One item got tucked away in my suitcase… A local chestnut farmer sold little bags of dehydrated slices. I had no idea what to do with them, but I was up for a challenge and couldn’t wait to incorporate the little yellow flakes into something delicious back at home. Well, I forgot about them until last night when I was raiding the pantry in search of inspiration, and like a little glowing light at the back of the pantry, that bag of chestnut chips illuminated my imagination.
On the back of the bag, suggestions included rehydrating, sprinkling on salads, or crushing them up and using as a breading. Bingo. Sole fillets defrosting, I prepared for the transformation. First a dish of spelt flour, next a beaten egg, and lastly crushed chestnut chips, black salt and freshly ground pepper. Simple as simple could be. The sweet nuttiness of the crispy breading gave a whole new dimension to an otherwise boring (and mediocre choice, sustainably speaking), white fish. A little lemon and some steamed rutabaga and dinner was served. Mmmm, yummy.