My first serious encounter with a white truffle was in Milan, and I didn’t even see it.
Tucked into a corner of a restaurant with a glass of prosecco, I was perusing the menu when it ambushed me. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by an incredibly powerful smell. Someone had ordered a dish with white truffles and the instant it breached the kitchen the heavy fragrance of truffle engulfed enveloped the room. And how to describe that seductive, intoxicating, primal perfume? Imagine a thick cloud of ripe cheese, tinged with garlic, layered with forest floor, musk and sex descending on you. This is the allure of the white truffle its rich, strong, smell, not its looks.
