The old man who sells roasted chestnuts on the place St Germain des Près seems to have been there forever. These guys are all over the city, but his craft is the pickiest: he sells them in a double white paper pouch (and not some dirty newspaper cone), one to place the chestnuts in and one for collecting the outer crusts instead of throwing them on the ground. AND he gives you a lemon-scented hand wash for after! AND he works from an old triporteur car where he keeps his chestnuts under a wool blanket while they wait...for me!
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