TWO ESCULENTS PAR EXCELLENCE
"Avec les truffes, et avec quelques-uns de ces excellents champignons si admirablement analysés par M. Roques, vous refaites la cuisine; vous en avez une du moins qui ne vieillit jamais, même pour vous."—Marquis de Cussy: L'Art Culinaire.
The truffle! what a fragrance its very name exhales. A flower like the rose, but more enduring, say its admirers. This strange food product has been studied by botanists, sung by poets, extolled by epicures, and accorded certain rare attributes by physicians. Unseen, it is sought for by entire communities; and discovered, it is treasured as a priceless gem of the table. Savarin defined it as the diamond of the kitchen. By La Reynière it was previously referred to as a sample of Paradise, and later eulogised as possessing a torrent of delights; while by Dumas it was pronounced the sacrum sacrorum of the gastronomer. It may, in truth, be regarded as the superlative of esculents, its powerful and delectable aroma dominating that of all other aliments with which it may come in contact. To the cuisine of winter it is what the violet is to the chaplet of spring. The old Greeks and Romans were extremely partial to it, although the varieties known to them and mentioned by Pliny differed from the famous Tuber melanosporum of southern France—the blackest and, as regarded by many, the most perfumed and delicious of its curious and widely distributed family. About 1825, under Minister Villèle, it came into greatest vogue in Paris, when the subject was taken up by the press, and so much was written in praise of the tuber that the demand soon increased threefold, and its price became correspondingly augmented.
Like the mushroom, the truffle is impatient of keeping when gathered. Preserved truffles, as a rule, are but a semblance of the fresh product when eaten at its precise maturity; and those who know this thallogen only in the former state have little idea of its marvellous flavour when fresh and in full possession of its virtues, whether it be served by itself or utilised as a vehicle for heightening the flavours of other dishes. Its use demands the knowledge of an artist; for it is only with certain forms of aliments that it should be employed. The onion and the mushroom detract from its savour, and it is chiefly in conjunction with fatty substances that its most expressive results are attained. By French epicures it is tacitly understood that there can be no grand dinner without truffles. "Who would dare to say," exclaims Savarin, "that he has attended a repast where a pièce truffée did not figure! However good an entrée may be, it should always be accompanied by truffles to set it off advantageously." Its harmonious association with grain-fed fowls is proverbial,—so much so, it has been remarked, that at a well-composed dinner every phrase which may have begun should be suspended upon the arrival of a truffled turkey. Berchoux thus alludes to its use with fowls,—
"L'abondance est unie à la délicatesse,
La truffe a parfumé la poularde de Bresse."
(The truffle yields its most adored caress
When tuck'd within a tender fowl of Bresse.)
At a dinner where the renowned naturalist Buffon was present, a truffled Périgueux turkey was brought in with great éclat. Inspired by the penetrating aroma, an elderly lady who was among the guests inquired of Buffon where the tuber grew. "At your feet, Madame," was the ready reply. The lady not understanding, it was thus explained to her: "C'est aux pieds des charmes" (at the feet of yoke-elm trees). The compliment passed as a happy one. Towards the end of the dinner some one asked the same question of Buffon, who, forgetful of his elderly vis-à-vis, innocently replied, "They grow aux pieds des vieux charmes" (old yoke-elm trees). The lady overheard him, and it is unnecessary to state was no longer impressed with his genius as a naturalist, or with the fact that a soup had been named in his honour by the great Carême.