Dirt Candy: Truffle Hunting in Umbria
Words: Audrey Gentile / Images: Mango Studios
We were gathered around the small farmhouse, running our fingers along the backs of dogs and hogs. We heard vehicles approaching, while still dizzy from the spiraling bus ride up the 1100 meters to reach Monte Pettino.
The whole scene was delivered with impeccable aestheticism — the way only Italians can do. Shod in quality leather with cigarettes in hand, the truffle cousins — Luca and Alessandro — were ready for us, their trucks matching their khaki uniforms
Channeling my inner small-town adolescence, I hopped on the back of the old-school pickup truck. Next to us were a team of dogs — the breedless kind — safely secured in their crate. We could sense their pent-up energy build as our destination grew closer. Ordinary-looking dogs setting out to perform the extraordinary.
These mutts were bred and trained to hunt edible gold. And their mission is one we share, since my partner and I, along with our group of fellow retreat guests, came to the Umbrian Apennine mountains in late summer for one reason — to find and eat black truffles. Like well-programmed friendly little robots, these dogs sniff, locate, dig out and surrender the nugget of pride to their master in exchange for a small piece of dried liver.
“AS SUBTLE IN TASTE AS IT IS PUNGENT IN AROMA, THE EXPERIENCE OF EATING TRUFFLE IS ALMOST CONFUSING FOR THE PALATE.”
Truffles are more abundant in Umbria than any other part of Italy. While black truffles are available for most of the year, white truffles are mostly found in the winter months. Umbrians heavy-handedly grate them over pasta, risotto and egg dishes. They also throw white truffles into their famous salumi and game roasts, and use them to flavour honey, oil and cheeses. Truffles here are enjoyed year round and as an everyday ingredient, rather than reserved for special occasions.
As a North American cook who always treated tartufi as a luxurious and mysterious delicacy, I found myself underwhelmed with the abundance and speed at which the dogs kept finding them. They were just small lumps of dirt taken out of dogs’ mouths. There was nothing resembling the coveted mushrooms known to have been traded for Rolexes and Ferraris.
Led by our host Mac — he’s Australian, but married Francesca whose family has owned and worked the land since 1486 — we hiked through the oak forest and the truffles just continued coming. Unlike most mushrooms, which grow on decomposing matter, truffles grow in loamy earth and live in a symbiotic relationship with the roots of oak, beech and chestnut trees. Their environment needs to be just right as they require specific nutrients and optimal pH and moisture levels. Yet seeing one dark morsel after another, handled in the least pretentious way, it became apparent that this land is stuffed with the prized fungi.
We knew we had reached our picnic location when the mountain peaked and we gazed up amidst an opening in the foliage. Thanks to Luca — one of the truffle cousins — this wholesome pursuit quickly turned into a mid-morning tailgate party. It was Italian-style of course, prosecco-fueled, and with ample pecorino cheese fresh from the cantina. Cued almost perfectly to the last cork pop, a large herd of sheep came down to meet us and share the views. The forage portion of our outing was officially over. The truffles were weighted, rinsed off and copiously grated over eggs strapazzate— cooked perfectly.
Buoyed with sparkling wine and anticipation, we feasted on this almost overly simple dish packed with this earthy musky truffle funk — which words will always fail to describe. As subtle in taste as it is pungent in aroma, the experience of eating truffle is almost confusing for the palate. I couldn’t be friends with anyone unable to recognize the obvious enchantment behind the only food that manages to be so aromatic yet so subtle in taste.
Italian scientists not only agree with me on this, but have been able to demonstrate that black truffles (tuber melanosporum) contain anandamide, also called “the bliss molecule”. This compound affects the cannabinoid receptors in the body’s nervous system in a similar manner to tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) and results in mood enhancement in the brain, which might explain part of the magic. This truffle high mingled with the altitude and alcohol, and our crew was in fine spirits by the time we returned to the lodge for lunch.
Luca was put on charcoal barbeque duties, grilling small links of pork sausage, as we all squeezed into la cacera, a moody rustic room next to the pecorino-making cave. More wine, home-cured salami and truffle paste on focaccia were served, as Francesca hand rolled and cut enough tagliatelle to feed a small army.
Lunch was served in the summer kitchen at the back of the property. In the dry and hot sunshine — uncharacteristic of Umbria which is typically lush and wet — we ate well. Tagliatelle with truffle paste and loads of olive oil, accompanied by crisped pork sausage and a side of bitter greens in even more oil and a hint of vinegar. Seasonal quality ingredients given an uncomplicated treatment, served the way it has always been done.
The whole experience embodied our time in Umbria — a food-oriented country lifestyle, punctuated by the seasons and wrapped up in traditions. We left the Black Truffle Lodge full in every way, and shots of truffle grappa, might have (or not) been downed in the bus on our way back to our masseria.