CMYK

I love truffles! No, I’m not talking about the kind that come in boxes, wrapped in little pieces of foil — I mean the rare, delicious fungi that is found by specially trained sows and dogs. These aromatic tubers grow, among other places in Europe, in the northern and central parts of Italy, and as such have become a part of the local cuisine. One of the first things I ate after arriving in Italy was Pecorino cheese with truffles, which they served at the Castello Verrazzano winery when we visited. I have been in love ever since. Truffles are powerful in that way. People tend to react quite strongly, either loving or hating them. I have never heard of anyone who thought truffles were “just okay.”

When I saw that Fred’s cookbook had a recipe with truffles, I knew I had to try it. The recipe called for fresh black truffles (tartufi neri) and after asking my Italian professor was directed to a shop that sold them. I knew that they were expensive, but I didn’t know to what degree. After entering the store I discovered that black truffles were €1.00 per gram and white truffles were €3.80 per gram. Think about that for a moment. That’s up to €3,800 per kilogram (2.2 pounds)! With a recipe that called for fifty grams, it was simply too expensive! I decided to compromise and buy some thinly sliced black truffles in oil instead, which were significantly less expensive.

When I returned home I decided to make a half recipe, just in case something went wrong — no sense wasting good truffles. I immediately began preparing the Spaghetti al Tartufo Nero. The recipe is quite simple, calling only for spaghetti, truffles, olive oil, and anchovy paste. The dish was ready in no time at all and I began eating. It was delicious, as expected! I was a bit apprehensive about the anchovy paste, but because it was such a small amount it gave just a little flavor without overpowering.

Shortly after, I decided to use the rest of the truffles I had bought and remembered stumbling across some recipes at the website for 4 Leoni. It seemed a bit strange, because it essentially instructed one to make plain risotto and then add a truffle sauce, prepared on the side. I was used to risotto recipes calling for something to be cooked along with the rice. However, when it all came together none of that mattered. The cream and Parmigiano made the risotto rich and creamy while complementing the truffles perfectly.

If you would like to try the risotto I made, you can find the recipe here. They do not give the quantities to make the risotto, but a six-serving recipe in Fred’s book called for 1 liter of vegetable stock and 450 grams of good rice (Vialone or Arborio work well). I would also suggest having a little extra stock on the side in case the rice takes more liquid to cook (making risotto is not an exact science). For those trying truffles for the first time, it may seem like eating a form of money. But if you love it, it won’t matter and you will gladly eat that currency — delicious, delicious currency.