Truffle Hound

When you read this, the Jewel of Gdansk (a.k.a. Diane) and I will be in Piedmont, sniffing out as many white truffles as we can.



Alas, this may not be many, since I’ve been told that a very dry hot summer has made this a great year for wine and a pretty poor one for truffles.



Nevertheless, we will devote our full energies to this arduous task, unrelenting in our devotion to duty: Science is a stern mistress.


2 Responses to “Truffle Hound”

  1. Tom Maresca Says:

    Hi, Magda.

    The hunt didn’t go too well, unfortunately. A dry summer and fall (it only started raining when we arrived, of course) made for a very scant and not-very-good white truffle crop — and the prices were off the charts. Fortunately, there was a pretty decent black truffle harvest, at much more realistic prices, so we didn’t fail entirely.
    The consolation is that a bad year for truffles usually means a good one for wines, so we drank deeply of those good Piemontese vintages.
    Last month we mushroom-hunted in New Hampshire, where we found a bumper crop of undesirable russulas and dangerous amanitas, plus one basketball-sized and delicious puffball. I envy you your spring morels.

    All best, Tom

  2. Magda Says:

    Hello Tom, How did the “arduous task” go? The “Jewel of Gdańsk” should have the passion for mushroom hunting in her genes. Every year, when the air is moist and cool, and you start smelling leaves in the air, my soul (or is it genes?) longs for a walk in the woods. When I first came to America, September it was, I waited as one and then another weekend passed by, the smell was in the air, and nobody in the family I was staying with was proposing going to the woods. I finally couldn’t restrain myself and asked. You can imagine the reaction: “Only crazy people go to the woods.” I find slippery jacks in the Sierras and sometimes morels in spring, but I wish I could find the areas Michael Pollan writes about–not that I’ve been looking hard. Magda

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