Flex your truffles

A valuable ingredient guaranteed to add girth to any dish it touches – John Wright helps us find this sought-after tuber

- John Wright

Way back in the 1980s, the British Mycological Society held a series of summer forays devoted entirely to finding truffles. I had previously come across a rather nibbled Summer Truffle, already unearthed by a squirrel, so, hoping for more, I went on four of these trips at various locations in England. They involved camping in a likely location and spending the day scratching around under suitable trees in the hope of finding any fungus that had taken to fruiting underground, but most notably the Summer Truffle (Tuber aestivum). This is the only one worth eating that grows in summer, hence its appeal. We found many species that were interesting, one having not been seen since the 19th century, but sadly the Summer Truffle never showed up when I did.

In October 1987 we went instead to Italy. About 20 of us travelled around for 10 days, going out with truffle-hunters, visiting processing plants, attending civic receptions in our honour and having the best lunch ever at a truffle research establishment.

We found dozens of Summer Truffles, a few of the considerably more fragrant Black Truffles and, in the north, the White Truffle of Alba. The latter is the king of the truffles and fabulously expensive. The truffle festival was going on at the time, with sellers sat behind small tables, waiting to sell the single White Truffle placed there. The aroma in the open streets was overwhelming. Earlier, I had managed to purloin a fragment that had broken off during excavation. I wrapped it in a plastic bag and, later, put it in the glove compartment of the car. After five miles of driving, the aroma started to make me feel dizzy, so I stopped the car and tied the bag to the roof-rack.