On Truffles
The truffle is one of the greatest blessings that providence, in its infinite generosity, has deigned to bestow upon gourmands. For the incomparable flavor that it brings to all manner of dishes, this tuberous object, neither vegetable nor fruit, ranks among the worthiest condiments of haute cuisine. Served on its own, it makes a most luxurious savory–the dish of choice for distinguished gourmets and the prettiest actresses of the Vaudeville Theater (which says it all) for four months out of the year.
Someday we will expound on the natural history of the truffle, it being one of the more remarkable subjects of the vegetable kingdom. For now, we will limit ourselves to the following: According to the esteemed Monsieur Parmentier1, naturalists are still unclear on the reproductive mechanism of this irregularly-shaped mushroom, which buds, swells and dies, all within the bosom of the earth, at a depth of seven to eight inches. It flourishes in fine, iron-rich clay, particularly in areas that are humid, shaded and protected from the elements, and is mostly found on the banks of streams, on slopes and hillsides, and in wooded areas, under the shade of oaks, aspens, black poplars, white birches and willows. This prized specimen does not favor all regions with its presence, but can be found in our southern provinces, such as Périgord (which produces, without question, the finest), Quercy, Gascony, and parts of Languedoc and Dauphiné.
Truffles are plentiful in Italy, where they are generally of the white variety. Those grown in Turin are notable for their powerful odor of garlic, tolerable only to the Piedmontese.
They are also found in Burgundy, Champagne, Germany, and other regions, but in such small quantities, and so lacking in flavor or virtue, that to call them truffles is to dishonor the name.
We will not discuss the signs by which one might identify a truffle site, because that task is usually left to pigs. The olfactory prowess of these animals, which are already so dear to the gourmand, make them natural-born sleuths. Let us bow before the truly versatile genius of our porcine friends, and acknowledge, in all fairness, that they are as useful to us alive as dead. Without them, truffles might remain hidden in the earth, fodder for spiders and maggots instead of illustrious gourmands.
We know from experience that truffles bloom almost immediately following heavy rain and thunderstorms. It seems that violent weather is good for something, after all, and the inhabitants of truffle-producing regions must dread these calamities rather less than the rest of us.
There are three main varieties of truffle: white, red and black. The first is the least prized, the second is the rarest, and the third is without doubt the finest—the only truffle, in fact, that we gourmands will allow on our tables.
Once truffles reach maturity, which is the only time they should be picked, thus permitting their flavor and aroma to reach their full potential, they are difficult to preserve. It is much better to leave them encrusted in their native soil than to rinse it off–so let us not complain, when buying truffles, of paying five or six francs a pound for good Périgord soil, for it is this soil that keeps them in fragrant, peak condition.
Truffles should be eaten fresh and in season; preserved truffles, whether they are kept in sand, oil, vinegar, spirits, or some other substance, completely lose their aroma and flavor, which become absorbed by these various agents. Dried truffles are just as odorless.
However, if one insists on transporting truffles over long distances, preserving them in some manner is unavoidable; powdered clay is the best option for this undertaking.
The truffle’s aromatic and mildly astringent properties work wonders at preserving meat: turkey or other fowl, which might ordinarily rot within a week, can be kept fresh for more than a month and a half if stuffed with truffles.2
The fragrance of the truffle is stealthily pervasive, a mere pound of the specimen being sufficient to perfume a fairly large area, but is extinguished on exposure to high temperatures. For this reason, the best chefs are careful not to overcook any dish to which truffles have been added.
To list the many dishes in which truffles are used would take up more space than everything we have said so far. Let us simply note that truffles figure heavily in the emincés3 and sautés of the first course, and in the chard and scrambled egg dishes of the second; that a truffled turkey is the most luxurious of roasts, and a truffle pâté, whether of game or of foie gras, is a taste of paradise on this wretched earth.
The truffle is lightly warming4, an aid to digestion, an excellent aphrodisiac—and one of opulence’s great gifts to sensuality.
Annotations
1. Antoine Augustin Parmentier (1737-1813) was a food scientist and a pioneering promoter of the potato as a human foodstuff.
2. This seems dubious.
3. Platters of thinly sliced roast meat, richly sauced.
4. In the teachings of the ancient Greek physician Hippocrates, disease is caused by an imbalance of the body's four humors (moist, dry, hot, cold), which food can correct. The theory persisted in Europe until the advent of modern medicine in the late 19th century.