Veni. Vidi. Truffuleati.

In the course of 30 years of professionally reviewing restaurants, three of my best-ever meals were centered around white truffles, or mushrooms.

Imagine what that says about the power of the white truffle! Three top meals -- out of 10,950 possible moments of gastronomic Eureka! (365 x 30 years) -- revolved around the presence of earthy, tar-scented, white truffles.

What amplifies the memory of these meals perhaps is the place where they were eaten, as much as the primary ingredient.

One of these top meals was not even a meal per se; my transcendental truffle epiphany occurred at 2 am in an empty Italian restaurant in Toronto, Canada. The owner of Mastro’s, Livio Camarra, had received some fresh white truffles from Piemonte that morning and called to invite me to share his gustatory pleasure. Late that evening, after a full dinner, Livio and I, alone in his darkened restaurant, headed to the kitchen, turned on the stove burners and pan-fried, in premium extra-virgin olive oil, two, fresh, farm eggs for each of us.

We blanketed the just-fried, sunny-side-up eggs with a frenzy of fresh, white truffle flakes, shaved off a tuber the size of a pair of rolled up, dull white gym socks. And about the same color. For authenticity, we accompanied the truffled eggs with a well-decanted (2 hours) elegant, 20-year-old, Barolo.

My two other memorable truffle moments were actually enjoyed in Piemonte, or as the English spell it, Piedmont.

One meal was served on a cold, rainy November night, high up in the Piedmont hills at a cantina for local winemakers. Every course in the set meal was based on fresh-picked, fall mushrooms, or pig-harvested, white truffles. There were no walls to the restaurant; Carol, my wife, and I sat huddled at a long, community table to avoid the leaking roof, and we devoured some of the best food we’ve ever been served.

The other meal, similarly based on white truffles, was served in a luxury, 1-star Michelin restaurant called Da Guido, in Costigliole d’Asti, in Piemonte. As memorable as the succession of truffle-scented dishes was the wine list, which surpassed 50,000 bottles.

I can’t recall what we drank (for sure, it was a serious Barolo, very likely from the house of Ceretto, as we were dining with their winery personnel), but I remember the white truffles, cascading from the silver truffle slicer, held by the waiter, who shaved paper-thin slices onto a tangle of tagliolini al tartufo bianco on my plate.

There is something about white truffles that is the equivalent of catnip. White truffles have a je ne sais quoi scent that, basically, drives you nuts, makes you forget what you were just thinking. Inhalations of just-shaved white truffle are like sex for your nostrils. Which is a scary thought. It makes me think that perhaps I am a truffle nymphomaniac – I can never get enough.

What to drink with white truffles?

There is a contemporary rule that says drink whatever you like with whatever food you’re eating. It may not be the instruction of textbook purists, or wine writers, but if you like a particular wine with a particular food, forget what others say and enjoy it!

But classically, over time, specific wines have been identified as The Perfect Match for the hearty taste of white truffles and mushroom-based dishes.

If you were in Piemonte, Italy, where so many of these exotic ground treasures originate, the wine of choice would be local – of the region. Of the hills. Of the soil.

And the local grape is Nebbiolo, which makes resplendent, long-lived Barolo, and Barbaresco wines, as well as delicious, full-throttle Gattinara, Ghemme and Spanna wines, all from the region.

Barolo, which has been called the King of Wines and the Wine of Kings, is the most desirable wine for any dish served with a freshly shaved white truffle, but if the cost of the truffle impairs spending an equally large sum for Barolo, then look for a less costly solution -- Barbaresco will also complement your dish.

The grape is called Nebbiolo after the regional fog (nebbia in Italian), which slows grape growth and extends hang-time, creating fruit with richer, deeper, wine-ier, flavors. The inherent chocolate, licorice and truffle-violet notes found in Nebbiolo-based reds complement the near-identical scents and flavors found in white truffles and hearty mushrooms like porcini. 

If you were served a tomato-based mushroom dish, you might revert to the Sangiovese grape, the backbone of Chianti and Vino di Montepulciano wines.

If you were to enjoy a cream-based porcini, or hearty mushroom, dish, you might turn to wines of a different region; a mature red Burgundy, or a five-to-ten-year-old, red Chateauneuf-du-Pape would be a perfect foil.

There’s also a chance that with some white truffle preparations (even fried eggs with shaved truffles), a substantial oily, or buttery, white wine might work. Something like a buttery Meursault from Burgundy, or a white Chateauneuf-du-Pape, which is the Goldilocks of white wines – not too faint of flavor…. not too strident with minerals, or oak…. in the middle flavor range… like Goldilocks’ porridge -- Just right!

And if you are still stretching to find a wine to complement a white truffle, or mushroom, dish, never forget that ace-up-the-sleeve beverage which goes with everything – Champagne!