The first truffle of the season
A cold morning at Cal Sec. Gambo, the youngest of the dogs, finds the first one before we've even reached the upper field.
The February air at the Cal Sec estate cuts, but it's the clean cold the holm oak asks for. We climb up with the torches still on, the dogs ahead, our boots muddy before the first bend.
Gambo is the youngest of our dogs and the most impatient. We hadn't reached the upper field before he was already scratching at the soil under an oak, his tail telling the whole story. There was a black truffle, deep down, its scent still shut inside.
The first of the season is always celebrated the same way: a piece of toast, a little oil from the estate, and a thin shaving of truffle over the top, in the kitchen, while the dogs wait for their share. The season runs from winter into early spring, and every outing begins like this.
If you'd like to see it for yourself, the truffle hunt heads out in the mornings with the dogs; we tell the whole story on the experience page.