As usual, we begin the year with a tribute to melanosporum truffle, the black diamond of cuisine, which one must learn how to cut, polish and set to release its full splendour.

Truffles are winter produce, ready to be eaten only after the first touch of frost hits the ground. They are a true gift to the palate, although every truffle smells and tastes different because of the differences in the soil where they have grown. Thus, truffles grown in soils affected by humidity excess  have a distinctive damp flavour, a lingering aftertaste which greatly diminishes their qualities, whereas other truffless are so aromatic and flavoursome that they could be compared even favourably to any other perfume.

Truffles are a mystery in themselves. André Malraux wrote in his Anti-Memoirs that “reflection is doubtless a way to delve into questions”. And just how many questions could one ask about truffles, a gift of nature that can only be understood with the passion of those who love the inimitable?

There is a huge number of recipes involving truffles. Some of this recipes have made culinary history, like the truffled pig’s trotters à la Sainte Menehould, which can be traced back to 1775. However, the best recipes with truffles tend to be also the simplest ones. I respect truffles too much to do some things with them. A  truffle wrapped up in paper and cooked in embers with a little bacon is simply glorious, whereas a whole truffle wrapped up in puff pastry or grated in a potato and cabbage soup can become a black pearl indeed. And this is why, to paraphrase Brillat-Savarin, after they have eaten some truffles with butter and wine, men become more pleasant and women become nicer.