In 2009, my boyfriend’s dad asked me if I had ever tasted white truffle. Well, no, I had most definitely not. Considering the price of such an ingredient, especially in Canada, it was a little over my reach, to say the least. He declared nobody should live without having tasted white truffle and vowed he would bring me to the place where he had eaten it a few times: the beautiful little town of Barbaresco, in the Piemonte region of Italy.
He called days in advance to reserve the truffle. He talked prices and weight with the little eatery’s owner over the phone. We then took the hour and a half drive from Milan on a Sunday. I have to specify that Barbaresco is much more famous for its red wine than for the truffles. My boyfriend’s dad thought it would allow him to have me taste the wine at the same time. He had shaken his head in disbelief when I answered him no, I had never drank Barbaresco. Yeah. He’s like that.
The meal consisted of various services: the antipasto, the primi piatti (traditional tajarin pasta and risotto) and the secondo piatto (a beautiful beef tartar). The truffle is put on the table at the beginning of the meal, with a shaver. Every dish is then to be eaten with a dusting of truffle shavings. Yes. It’s good. It’s sooooooo good! I want to go back. Tomorrow.
Photo via Time Out.