On the busy Rua de Santa Catarina, we found the Figueiras family's cart – Margarida and Júlio, both 53 years old, and their 19-year-old son, Diogo. “We’ve been selling chestnuts for 15 years, it's a family business,” says Margarida.
The cry “hot and good!” echoes through the streets while Júlio closely watches the chestnuts on the grill. “The chestnuts are ready when they squeeze and come off the shell,” he explains, with an expert look. This year, the harvest was particularly good. “The first chestnuts of the year were very large; the ones that came now are very nice and golden.”

The tradition of street vending is deeply rooted in this family for generations.
Margarida, in good spirits, talks about the teamwork: “My son cuts the chestnuts, my husband is the roaster, and I take care of the decoration and talk to people.” It's one of the busiest carts, and it's no coincidence. “We pay a lot of attention to the presentation; people eat with their eyes,” says Margarida, revealing one of the secrets to success, and she adds that customers “are more foreigners than anything else!” “And they love it! They eat with the shell, without the shell… If it's not me saying 'take off the shells! take off the shells!', they eat everything,” she laughs.

We went down to Rua Sá da Bandeira and found Laura Santos and her husband, Manuel. Both 55 years old, they’ve been selling chestnuts for 20 years. Laura recalls: “I remember selling popcorn with my father on Santa Catarina since I was seven.” This year, there’s good news: “The chestnut is sweet and in November it’s just perfect.” For Laura, the secret to a good roasted chestnut lies in practice: “My husband looks at them and already knows when they’re ready.” Although they don't skip the “Hot and good!” claim, it’s their regular customers that keep the business going.

From the downtown, we went up to Boavista, where Augusto Lopes, with his “65 plus nine months,” as he likes to say, has lost count of how many years he's been selling chestnuts but remembers starting “when he was still in his mother’s belly.” For him, selling chestnuts is more than a business; it's a way of life. “There’s no need for a cry; people see the smoke coming out of the cart, the warm chestnut, and they come straight away.” He suggests accompanying them with jeropiga. On St. Martin’s Day, the rush is so much that his wife, Maria Manuel, joins him to lend a hand.

At Praça do Império, in Foz, Adolfo Ferreira dos Santos, 72 years old, has been selling chestnuts since he was 16. The formula for loyal customers is ensuring quality: “I always sort out the good chestnuts from the bad ones. This way, my customers know they can trust me.” Locals usually buy a cone of chestnuts at snack time. “Wherever I am, my customers know where to find me, and they come to buy from me.”

At the edge between Porto and Matosinhos, at the Anémona roundabout, we found Renato, the young man who has been selling chestnuts there for over seven years. It's a tradition that runs through several family members. He’s in a privileged spot but admits that the biggest challenge he faces “is the strong winds.” “When the weather is bad, everything flies away; it’s a problem.” But on November 11th, a rise in temperature is expected, the so-called “St. Martin's summer.”