Fresh White Truffle
I must have been a very good boy this year because instead of coal in my stocking, Santa brought me a fresh white truffle; arguably, the best Christmas present ever! My parents are fully aware of my truffle obsession and arranged to fly in a huge white truffle, overnight straight from Alba, Italy. They handed me the Styrofoam box on Christmas eve and I had no idea what to expect until I lifted the lid just a hair. A burst of funky truffle aroma hit me in the face and turned me into a little kid on Christmas.
Most people don’t get this excited over a box of fungus, but if you’ve ever experienced fresh white truffles shaved on your meal you will empathize with me.
There are over a hundred different species of truffles, but only a few are highly prized as food in French, Italian, Spanish, and Croatian cooking. The white truffle, or otherwise known as the Alba Truffle (seen here) comes from the Piedmont region of northern Italy. The truffle is what drives people to Alba in the fall for the truffle festivals and truffle hunts.
These fungi grow underground at the base of large trees, and the weather, climate, and soil are all contributing factors to the quality of the product; very similar to wine. You can’t just grow truffles anywhere, which makes them so highly esteemed, and expensive. The famous 18th century French gastronome, Brillat-Savarin called white truffles, “the diamond of the kitchen”, because of they’re indescribable ability to elevate a dish to a whole new level.
When these little truffles are growing underground it’s very hard to know where to look for them, so we turn to pigs. Female pigs especially because there is a specific compound inside the truffle that is almost identical to the sex pheromone in boar’s saliva; making female hogs natural truffle seekers (another reason why I want to get a pet pig). If you’ve ever smelled a truffle, tasted truffle oil, or been in a restaurant when a waiter walks by you with truffle on a plate, you know why they’re so expensive (around $3,500. per pound).
The distinctive, pungent, sexy aroma fills the room and mystifies people, leaving them craving more. They don’t even have much of a taste at all, it’s just the overpowering odor that makes people want to smell it over and over again. When you’re cooking with fresh white truffles, you never want to make anything too elaborate that will steal the show. I chose to make fresh egg noodle linguine tossed with lots of clarified butter, and topped with a raw egg yolk. While the pasta is still steaming hot, I shaved the white truffle over the dish with my new stainless steel truffle shaver.
The heat and steam from the dish made the truffle smell even more intense and sent me into a frenzy. The fresh pasta was delicate and silky, completely coated with butter and the rich egg. Truffles are classically paired with rich buttery foods because they bring the best out of those other ingredients. The pasta disappeared quickly but luckily I made a wild mushroom risotto for the second truffle course. Risotto is made with a specific grain of rice called Arborio.
This is a long grain rice which has a special starchy coating on the outside making it perfect for the slow cooking risotto process. Not only do truffles go great shaved atop risotto, the raw grains are the best way to store fresh truffles. I buried the leftover truffle in the Arborio rice and enclosed it in a mason jar so that the aromas and flavor are preserved. The wild mushroom risotto was rich and earthy, with a bit of tang from the freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.
I served a special wine with this meal because it’s not everyday you have a fresh white truffle in your kitchen. I pulled out a 1995 Rinaldi Barolo, also hailing from the Piedmont region of Italy.
Barolo is the king of Piedmont when it comes to wine. It is one of the most powerful, and fruit forward varietals in the whole world, extending its longevity years longer than most wines. This wine was made 14 years ago and when I opened it up, I realized it still could have rested for another ten years. When serving older wines, it is better to pair them with simple dishes; it doesn’t get much better than old Barolo and white truffles. It was brick red in color and still had floral, earthy aromas.
The wine was round and muscular, giving off flavors of smoke, black cherry, tar, and grilled meats. Every sip was complimented by the steamy truffle smells from the plate below, transporting me to the countryside in Alba. I still have about half of the truffle leftover and I’m planning on waking up tomorrow morning to some amazing scrambled eggs.
