Castagnaccio is often called a ‘cake’ in English translations but it’s really somewhere between a slice and a dense, thick crêpe (for a real ‘chestnut cake’, I would see the one on). The smooth, dense texture of this ancient, rustic Tuscan delicacy is quite difficult to describe to those who have never come across it before. I can only compare it to Japanese sweets, such as yokan (which is made of azuki bean paste), which I gobbled up at any opportunity when I was a child (and I still do).
This is one of those dishes that you either love or hate. The flavour of chestnuts seems to be intensified in flour form, so you must love chestnuts to enjoy this. Most of the sweetness comes from the natural flavour of the ground, dried chestnuts and the sultanas, so it is not overly sweet. Ancient versions of this recipe don’t even include sugar (it would have been too much of a luxury for a peasant dish like this one), but today a few spoonfuls usually make their way in there and it is still, quite pleasingly, subtle.
On its own, castagnaccio is in its most rustic state, and eaten in small slices is perfect with a glass of vin santo (Tuscan dessert wine) or young red wine. You can transform it into a dessert by topping it with slightly sweetened whipped cream or some very fresh, slightly sweetened ricotta, whipped to make it fluffier – the ricotta version is my absolute favourite way to have it.