There has been a definite seasonal change in Frankfurt during our absence. The days are much shorter, the air is cooler and there are piles of dead leaves everywhere. There is also a preponderance of pumpkins and squash. These are not only in the supermarket but arranged decoratively outside people's houses. Early halloween preparations? I'm not sure.
On Sunday we visited a nearby Schloss (which turned out to be another castle that didn't measure up to Mads' exacting castle standards) and, inspired by the general autumness of our surrounds, we collected up some chestnuts to roast in the oven that evening. I actually don't really like chestnuts all that much - they are so floury - but it seemed like a cosy, autumny thing to do. Besides, they kept falling out of the trees and clonking us on our heads.
'I have a feeling we're supposed to score the top of them,' I said to Thieu as I bunged the chestnuts in the oven, 'but that's probably just to make them easier to peel.'
Ah. Not so it would seem. 45 minutes later we heard a loud bang in the kitchen. The fine white powder covering the inside of the oven (and the fragments of shell) would have probably been enough to convince most people that a chestnut had exploded. But it wasn't enough proof for me. I took another chestnut out of the oven and popped it into the water-filled sink where it obligingly exploded for me, very nearly taking out an eye. I shut the oven door and no one ventured near the kitchen again until the oven was stone cold. The chestnuts tasted terrible.