Truffled Dreams

Those who wish to lead a virtuous life should abstain from truffles – Old Italian Proverb

Like many Americans, my first encounter with something called truffles was of rich and decadent chocolaty sweets.  As a child, I craved those little nuggets of luscious chocolate, perhaps because they were forbidden to me, as I then had low blood sugar.  While they were alluring to me, I had no idea that these chocolates were named after something more earthy, mysterious, and downright sensual.  Little did I know that later in life, I was to be ensnared by the real thing, and that no medical condition would prevent me from indulging.  Sadly, though, it’s more of an economic barrier I am forced to contend with now.

While the most renowned truffle-producing areas are the French region of Périgord and the Italian Piedmont town of Alba, my own entry into the intensely fragrant world of truffles came in Umbria, a landlocked central Italian region known as “The Green Heart of Italy”.  This is the home of St. Francis of Assisi , Perugia Chocolate, and the Spoleto Arts Festival.  Umbria produces nearly 40% of all pasta made in Italy , and is known for its rustic home cooking with game birds, slow-roasted stuffed porchetta, and cinghiale, a cured wild boar meat.

Because of its hills and valleys, gorgeous forests, and protected climate, Umbria produces large numbers of bianchetti, the Small Truffle, tuber melanosporum, the Black Truffle, found from October to November, and tuber aestivum, the Summer Truffle or scorzone, found from May to August.

I was blessed to be in Umbria in early November, and made it to the annual Mostro del Tartufo, held the first week of November in the northern Umbrian town of Città di Castello .  Similar events are held in the hillside town of Gubbio and in Valtopina.  These events are highly anticipated, and people come from all over Italy to see what treasures have been unearthed.  The central town square was filled with two giant white tents, one for truffle sales and the other for showcasing local products.  It wasn’t my anticipatory imagination — I could actually smell the distinctive odor of truffles as soon as I entered into the square, even before reaching the main tent.

As is tradition, vendors from independent tartufari (truffle hunters) to large production houses displayed their black diamonds on blue and white checked cloths, in which the gems are enveloped on their way to market.  Luckily, this time of year was doubly blessed, in that many vendors also had the rarer and more highly prized White Truffles, tuber magnatum pico.

One vendor, an unassuming middle-aged gentleman in a simple brown corduroy jacket, had a huge crowd gathered around him as he unveiled a store of large, baseball-sized white truffles.  One quick glance at his stash, and I knew this man would leave the market that day with several thousand Euros, the reward for an obviously gifted truffle hunter.  I imagined the special reward he would give his beloved dog for helping him to unearth these gems.

While I would have loved to purchase one of his truffles, I knew it just wasn’t in my budget.  I also feared returning to the States and encountering the food-sniffing beagles at U.S. Customs, and having to pay a hefty tariff to bring it in.  So I contented myself with buying a few smaller black truffles for about 60 Euros, as well as some wonderful preserved truffle products in jars:  sliced black truffles in olive oil, white truffle paste, and pecorino tartufato, a lovely fresh sheep’s milk cheese with flecks of truffle throughout.

I enjoyed a wonderful lunch, snacking on the many regional products available at the other tent, and then returned to my car for the drive back to Perugia .  Within minutes, I was practically drunk with the aroma of the truffles in the car.  The arousal made me want to rip into the bag and eat the cheese right away, and I was even tempted to eat the truffles themselves.  It made me think of how frustrating it must be for the truffle-hunting dogs not to be able to gulp them down as soon as they are unearthed.  No, that pleasure would have to await my return to the U.S.

After the Truffle Festival in Città di Castello, I thought that my truffle luck was over; but I was blessed with a fortunate coincidence which has proven to have ongoing benefits.  When my Perugian host discovered that I was interested in truffles (through the unmistakable odor emanating from my room), he informed me that his business partner was married to an American woman who, along with her sister-in-law Marta, a tartufara, had started a business exporting Umbrian truffles and olive oils to the US .  She put me in touch with her US partner in Connecticut , and I have been ordering their flash-frozen grated black truffles in olive oil ever since.  Knowing the source as well as the person who hunted the truffles makes using these products even more special.  I can guarantee the quality to my clients, and every time I open a container, I’m transported back to my journey and the lush green hills of Umbria .

Upon my return to the U.S. , I stood at the baggage claim line, warily eying the beagle I saw across the room while I waited for my bag.  In addition to the products I bought at the festival in Città di Castello, I had purchased a few bottled summer truffles in Assisi , and some cioccolatini al tartufo, small chocolates with actual black truffle in them, which have forever redefined my childhood obsession with chocolates.  As my bag came around on the turnstile and I walked toward the exit, the beagle must have found others with equally aromatic food products in their bags, and I sailed right through.  Within an hour, I was enjoying a steaming dish of fresh pasta dressed in the best olive oil, graced with melted pecorino flavored with black gold.  I didn’t expect to return to Umbria so soon.

To celebrate his love for truffles, Chef Mark has offered up a fine selection of recipes, from classic truffle preparations to modern delights.

Photos: Mark Tafoya

Mark Tafoya is the Executive Chef of the Gilded Fork.