How to Make Roasted Chestnut Ice Cream

I have a soft spot for chestnuts. It’s a small obsession rooted in childhood impressions and a string of delicious discoveries. As a girl, I read characters with “chestnut-colored” hair and thought the phrase sounded refined. As a teen, I spotted shoes labeled “Castagna” and learned that’s Italian for chestnut. The word and the shade stuck with me—dark, warm, and rich.

My first roasted chestnuts were a revelation: warm, sweet, and fragrant, sold from a vendor and handed over in a newspaper cone as we walked through a chilly evening in Rome. The smell and taste were intoxicating. Since then I’ve adored walnuts, almonds, and hazelnuts, but chestnuts hold a special place. They are subtly sweet and lend themselves beautifully to creamy, comforting desserts.

I remember discovering crème de marron in a small European specialty shop. That chestnut spread—sweetened and perfumed with vanilla—was silky, nutty, and utterly charming on toast. Years later in Paris I ordered a chestnut flour crepe filled with crème de marron and topped with whipped cream on the Left Bank. It was bliss and cemented my affection for chestnut flavors in desserts.

So when I came across Bella’s roasted chestnut ice cream recipe on the Ful-Filled blog, I knew I had to try it. Her version grew out of an acorn ice cream she once made—yes, acorns—a foraged experiment that she described as one of the best ice creams she’d ever tasted. Recognizing that most people won’t forage and process acorns, she adapted the idea to use chestnuts instead. Chestnuts have long been used as a starch in European and Native American cooking, and today chestnut flour is widely available from specialty shops and online. It’s excellent in cakes, muffins, and crepes, and it’s a useful gluten-free alternative.

For convenience I often use pre-roasted, vacuum-sealed chestnuts. They are easy to keep in the pantry, great for snacking, and helpful when you want chestnut flavor without roasting at home. When pureed and combined with dairy, chestnuts form the mellow, nutty backbone of an indulgent custard base.

The recipe begins by making a chestnut purée: simmer finely chopped chestnuts in milk until tender, then blend until smooth. I use a high-speed blender for an ultra-silky texture. Mixed with a touch of maple or brown sugar and vanilla, that purée alone would be an outstanding spread for toast. But folded into a rich custard—made from cream, milk, honey, brown sugar, egg yolks, and vanilla—the chestnut flavor becomes the star of a velvety ice cream.

I’ve adapted the recipe over time to include chocolate chunks, a drizzle of salted bourbon caramel, and chopped nuts or candied chestnuts for texture. Those additions elevate the ice cream and balance the gentle, earthy chestnut notes with sweet, bitter, and crunchy contrasts.

One of my favorite ways to serve this ice cream is as a whisky affogato: place a scoop of the chestnut ice cream into a small glass, pour a shot of hot espresso over it, and add a splash of your favorite whisky. A heavily peated single malt works wonderfully if you like smoky notes; otherwise use whatever whisky you enjoy. The hot espresso slightly melts the ice cream, and the whisky adds warmth and depth—an elegant, grown-up treat.

This chestnut ice cream is also delicious alongside fall and winter pies—cranberry-sage or mincemeat, for example—or simply topped with a bittersweet chocolate sauce. It stores well in a tightly sealed container; allow it to soften a little at room temperature before scooping for the best texture.

Love, Jen