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describe but have been likened to the smell of
sweaty socks with garlicky overtones and an
underlying suggestion of stale cheese.
However, the main interest of the British
Mycological group was not so much in the eating
of the truffle, as in its nature and habitat.
Largely we were curious to learn about the
cultivation of the fungus and the techniques so
skilfully and successfully applied in Italy.
So on a warm sunny afternoon we set off on the
250 km drive from Milan to Alba, heading
south—west, along the valley of the Po river,
with its flat land punctuated by small
regiments of poplar and occasional straggled
lines of vines, corn stubble and freshly
ploughed cocoa brown earth. A huge yellow
evening sun loomed behind the spire-topped
Langhe hills reflecting in the winding Tanaro
river as we reached Alba, a town bustling with
preparations for the 57th Annual Truffle Fair -
its great event of the year.
Welcome dishes of handmade taglierini covered
with delicious slivers of white truffle and
washed down with wholesome glasses of Dolcetto
D'Alba (the little—sweet bitter-twist wine)
ensured a sound night's sleep before an early
morning field meeting with Signor Benvenuto and
members of the Alba and Manferrato Truffle
Association.
Picking up the local Priest and dogs en route
we set off for a patch of countryside where a
demonstration was given of the expert's way of
finding the local white truffles. Every dog