The only thing I knew about truffles was that they are one of the most expensive foods in the world. Before arriving in Florence, I had never smelled, seen, or tasted a truffle.
In my first few days here I wondered what this distinct sweet, earthy, slightly sickening aroma was. I would smell it as we passed “la Bottega del Tartufo”, which is a shop you can find all over Italy selling truffle-related products. Within the first few nights, my roommate ordered a truffle pasta, and this confirmed that what I had been smelling was truffle. Many menus here have a pricey little “truffle section”. Even given the slight premium listed for all truffle items, it still didn’t make that much sense to me. How could one of the most precious ingredients in the world be on the menu of every other sandwich shop?
Truffle, apparently, goes in anything. You can get shavings of it in a jar, truffle sauces, truffle pasta, truffle cheese, truffle honey, truffle butter, truffle drinks. It’s overwhelming. Truffle most commonly comes in the form of truffle oil, which is to sandwiches and pizzas abound. However, I soon began to question the authenticity of the oil, based on its prevalence alone. In addition, I have learned here that lots of “extra virgin olive oil” “from Italy” in America is actually not either of those things in any meaningful way.
A quick google search confirms my suspicions: most truffle oil contains no truffles. It’s a synthetic compound that mimics the smell and flavor of truffles but lacks the complexity and price tag.
My suspicions were once again confirmed on our program’s trip to Savini Truffle. At Savini, we went truffle hunting (though, I think the word “foraging” is more appropriate) and had an authentic truffle-themed lunch. Afterward, I asked our truffle guide about the widespread appearance of truffles on menus in Italy. The guide scoffed and said that it’s mostly fake.
The price tag is the first indicator of a food’s quality. A city tour guide named I spoke to told me this when I asked her about buying quality, sustainable food. Truffles exemplify this rule. If the truffles are real, you will be paying for it
Truffle hunting was a breath of fresh air. We went into the woods with two hunters and three dogs and watched the dogs romp around in the brush. A dog would start digging, indicating the potential presence of a truffle. The hunters pushed the dogs aside after they dug for a moment; they don’t want the truffle to be damaged. The hunter felt around in the dirt. The whole group fixated on the hunter and dog eager to see what would emerge from the dirt. We found three truffles that day. All black truffles, which are the less rare variety. It was white truffle season, but Italy’s drought meant the hunters had found none this year.
The truffles were passed around the group so we could all touch and sniff them. Smelling this truffle showed me the difference between synthetic truffle and natural truffle. The real truffle lacked that sickly component that I smell walking around Florence.