Chestnut Magic in Palma: Emilio Macanás and His Winter Pots

Chestnut Magic in Palma: Emilio Macanás and His Winter Pots

A mild December day, around 16 °C and a few clouds: on afternoons like these a familiar scent drifts through Palma's old town. On the Plaça del Mercat there's a small stall and next to it an old metal pot over an open fire. From it come the tinkling, warm chestnuts that attract passersby like little magical anchors in the Christmas bustle.

The man behind the pot is called Emilio José Macanás. He is 78 years old and has been selling roasted chestnuts in Palma during the pre-Christmas season for more than three decades. He used to stand at Plaza Juan Carlos I; today his regular place for the past 18 years has been Plaça del Mercat. For many residents it has become a fixed part of the Advent route: first a look at the festively decorated old town, then a bag of chestnuts as a small reward.

The chestnuts Emilio sells come from northwestern Spain, from Galicia. He lightly scores the shells beforehand and roasts the nuts in a traditional metal cauldron over a wood fire — a preparation that intensifies the aroma and makes the chestnuts crisp on the outside and tender inside. His prices are modest: a bag costs four euros, and half a kilo is seven euros.

Tourists from Germany are among his most loyal customers: after locals they buy most frequently. You can tell from the conversations, the hesitant Spanish, and the photos people take holding the steaming bag. The mixture of familiar Christmas memories and the Mallorcan cityscape seems to fit well — for many travelers it's a piece of home expressed in warm aroma.

What these stalls mean for Palma is more than just a snack offering: they are part of a small economic cycle and anchor traditions. A single stall brings life to the streets, creates jobs, and gives the cityscape texture and character during the colder season. On such days Plaça del Mercat feels fuller: shoppers, market visitors, curious children in gloves and older people stopping for a short chat.

There are also small, quiet rituals that take place here. A man buys a bag as a gift for his neighbor, a couple share a portion and laugh about charred bits, a boy presses his cold hands to the paper sack. These scenes may sound banal, but they are precisely what keeps cities alive during Advent: smells, voices, the crackling of the fire.

For Mallorca as a whole this is an advantage: authentic offerings attract visitors who seek not only beach photos but local experiences. That helps small businesses in a time when many are affected by seasonal fluctuations. At the same time a culinary tradition remains visible, one that elsewhere in Spain has long been associated with winter and the holidays.

If you're planning a little outing, you'll find more than chestnuts at Plaça del Mercat. The surroundings invite a stroll, the Christmas lights slowly begin to glow, and the scent from Emilio's cauldron makes a simple promise: a warm handful that brings a moment of warmth to the day. A tip: arriving early pays off — the best chestnuts go quickly, and the seller shifts his cooking spots during the day depending on how the wind funnels through the alleys.

Outlook

These stalls are small cultural beacons. Those who buy support not just an individual vendor but help keep Mallorcan pre-Christmas traditions alive. In the future it would be nice if more people deliberately seek out such places: less mass consumption, more local moments. Then the crackling in the metal pot will remain audible for a long time.

And if you ever find yourself standing there with your hands on the warm paper bag, here's a piece of advice: stay a moment, watch the surroundings, and eat the chestnuts slowly. That's Mallorca in winter — not just sun, but also small, delicious traditions.