I recall this moment in my youth, when my family was on its way home from some out-of-town event (there was an unfortunate overabundance of those). In a small village, we passed a house with a massive chestnut tree. I'm not sure what compelled the brashness, but we quickly stopped and decided to ask the residents to let us have some of their chestnuts (there was too much for a single family, after all).
To the owner's surprise, a bunch of foreign-looking people had just asked to clean up her yard of the spiky nuisances that kept falling from her tree, and even more odd: they wanted to cook it. To our delight, we took her share of the bounty, too, and gorged on boiled chestnuts for the next month.
Too bad this wasn't a chestnut, and clearly it wasn't. Otherwise, you wouldn't be seeing it still on the tree.
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