Love at first truffle

Whosoever says truffle, utters a grand word, which awakens erotic and gastronomic ideas.

— Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin  in preface to The Physiology of Taste (1825)

The very first time I tried truffles was when I was nine years old. It was love at first bite. We were in Italy with my mother and sister, driving around, and had visited an artisanal factory making truffle products: truffle honey, truffle oil, truffle pastes, all sorts of truffle products. It wasn’t the season for fresh truffles, I don’t remember eating them shaved, I only remember dipping some focaccia into some truffle oil and I knew my life was changed. It was perhaps with me a chemical reaction. As a young child I could never really describe the scent, the heady intoxicating perfume; all I knew was I wanted to have it on everything. To douse my life in that precious oil. To bathe myself in it. I carried a small bottle of truffle oil in my pocket for the rest of our vacation and sneakily poured it on all my meals. 

My first true vivid memory of real fresh truffle was in Saint Tropez at the Café de Paris. I was about 15 years old, my mother had come to pick me up from a summer exchange program in the southwest of France and we went on to meet some friends of hers by the Côte d’Azur. One of her friends was the owner of the café and had excitedly invited us to experience his haul of fresh summer truffles. From behind the counter he lugged out a giant burlap sack — yes, “sack”! Of truffles! He produced some warm crusty bread, kissed with a little olive oil, and went on to shave a mountain of paper-thin truffles on it. A bruschetta of truffles. That textural gentle crunch, your nose buried in its lush scent, the sheer luxurious simplicity of it all. It was simply divine.

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There are two types of people who eat truffles: those who think truffles are good because they are dear and those who know they are dear because they are good.

— J.L. VaudoyerF

lash forward to today, where almost every restaurant menu has some sort of truffle dish. For even a die-hard truffle lover like me, sometimes I feel not that it is overused, but wrongly used. I myself have to admit I was a victim when I had my little resto venture; sometimes there is a fine line between making what sells and truly using the ingredient in the right manner. Much like foie gras, I am now reaffirming this belief and rejecting the practice some people have of just dumping it here and there. These are precious commodities, to be treated with reverence and respect. And I firmly believe, especially with truffles, there is a rather strict protocol that should be followed. With of course some creative leeway, but much of it has to do with truly understanding truffles, where they come from, what are the varieties and how should they be used.

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The most learned men have been questioned as to the nature of this tuber, and after two thousand years of argument and discussion their answer is the same as it was on the first day: we do not know. The truffles themselves have been interrogated, and have answered simply: eat us and praise the Lord.

— Alexandre Dumas

The origin of the word truffle comes from the latin “tuber” which means lump or swelling. With no apparent root system or seed, birthing out of a symbiotic relationship between the roots of certain trees and certain conditions in the soil, it defies all notions of agriculture and cultivation. For centuries mankind has been fascinated and baffled by what would seem like spontaneous appearances, truly making them appear like a rare gem or a gift from God. There are about eight specific kinds of truffles depending on the season and geography, but they can be generally grouped into four major categories: the Winter Black Truffle, the Winter White Truffle, the Summer Black Truffle and the Summer White Truffle. The winter varieties are much more intense in aroma, making them more precious on the market. Among these are the famous deep, black truffle from Perigord in France and the white Alba truffle from Italy. Fetching as high as $3,500 a pound in 2012, the white Piemontese truffle is truly a luxurious product. Summer truffles are a little less fragrant but just as pleasant. They are often used more creatively, their more affordable prices leaving some leeway for culinary freedom.

Black truffles have a subtle, velvety aroma. Often described as a combination of chocolate and earth, it is best brought out with some slow cooking, complemented by other rich earthy flavors. It can hold up to rich meaty sauces, transform some roast poultry from rustic to gastronomic and can add a nice dimension of depth to most dishes. The black truffle aroma, when used properly, can hold up well against some fresh clean, green flavors, like asparagus, leeks or haricots-verts. The French, however, prefer to use their precious black perigord truffles with some soft, creamy scrambled eggs.

White truffles are much more pungent and musky. A flavor that is truly intense yet ever so fleeting. Fresh white winter truffles should never be cooked. It is the same when using white truffle products: one must always add it to the dish in the very end, right before serving because that intoxicating perfume is rather ethereal. Keep the pairings simple, bland and rich. Pasta, potatoes and rice with some butter, a little cream perhaps a tiny tad of nutty parmesan creates the perfect backdrop for white truffle. Allow the product to shine through, to be the true star. Avoid anything acidic such as lemon or tomatoes that will kill that fleeting precious scent.

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They can, on certain occasions, make women more tender and men more lovable.

— Alexandre Dumas,

referring to truffles

Bringing out the full force and glory of truffle aromas are not only key to true gastronomic enjoyment but more importantly, this Valentine’s Day, they can play a key role in romance. Throughout history truffles have long been portrayed as aphrodisiacs. And now science has found proof of this legend. Truffles have been found since the 1980s to be a potent source of androstenol, which is the sex pheromone in pigs (this is how the pigs find them) but it’s also found in human sweat glands and is much like human sex hormones. Yes, gentlemen: feed your ladies some truffle this Valentine’s Day. She may be more receptive because of the actual love chemistry or perhaps because the food was simply spectacular.

Cooking with truffles can be as simple as boiling some pasta water. Really. So here are some tips, rules, suggestions and two easy-to-follow recipes using these Filotei products that are rather affordable (a little goes a long way) and easy to find as they are available in the major Rustan’s Supermarkets in the metro (Makati, Shangri-la, Rockwell and San Antonio).

The most important rule is to let the truffle aroma stand out. Avoid using other spices and herbs that could mask or fight the truffle. You need richness. Butter, cream, cheese, eggs and oils help bring out the flavor. When in doubt, go for simple — as discussed earlier the trio of pasta, rice and potatoes really works. One of my favorite irreverent truffle dishes is truffled French fries. The fatty crisp potatoes are the perfect foil to the musky scent. If you must purchase one truffle product, choose an oil. Be sure to read the label to ensure it is not synthetic truffle scent. Try as much as possible to look for the words “truffle infused” and in some cases even bits of actual truffle in the bottle. Once opened store in the ref; the cold congealed oil will help preserve the quick-to-fade scent. Simply run the bottle under some hot water before adding some drops to your food. One great luxurious product is truffle sauce. Black truffle sauce, sometimes known as tartufata, is often mixed with mushrooms and olives and is great for mixing with butters, sauces, creams and even some dressing. White truffle sauce or pastes can be a combination of just white truffle and cream or some neutral mushrooms and even parmesan cheese. I would use this on its own, tossed with pasta or risotto and some parmesan. Either one could work in an aioli but it would all depend on what you’re dipping in it. French fries and white truffle aioli sounds delish.