WESTERN AUSTRALIA
It’s a winter’s morning on Wilgarup River Farm,
but grey skies and a downpour don’t deter Mel Booth as she guides Molly, her adopted Labrador, along the rows of oak and hazel trees. Native bush borders the 150-acre property in Western Australia, and in a nearby paddock, Highland cattle are grazing. Molly lightly paws the earth through a carpet of fallen leaves. Kneeling, Mel works the soil with a trowel, then her fingers, before uncovering our prize — a black truffle weighing about 30g. This variety is most commonly known as
Périgord truffle — named for the region in southwest France that’s traditionally been the hunting ground for this sought-after ingredient — but menus have also begun namechecking Manjimup, the closest town to here. Advances in mycology mean black truffle can now be cultivated — in both hemispheres. The Southern Forests area, 185 miles south of Perth, offers a similar climate to Périgord, which explains why it’s now the largest producing region in the Southern Hemisphere and the heart of Australian truffle country. Molly’s find infuses the crisp air with a
Previous pages: Analiese Gregory’s potato galette with truffle; Mel Booth and her dog Molly take a break
Left, clockwise from top: Southern Roasting Co, Manjimup; truffle pizza, served at Truffle Kerfuffle; Wild at Heart’s Lisa Cudby grates fresh truffle onto seasonal cauliflower and apple soup; fresh truffles at the Australian Truffle Traders’ stall at Truffle Kerfuffle
heady aroma of truffle, which is technically the fruiting body of a subterranean fungus that grows on inoculated tree roots. Described by some as smelling like socks and sex — or, more pleasantly, having notes of chocolate or book leather — it’s like a glass of wine: subjective. Whether I savour the aroma in an orchard or a kitchen, I pick up a primal earthiness, a forest-floor funk. The Booth family own Australian Truffle
Traders, selling truffles grown on various farms, including their own, as well as offering seasonal tours from May to September. At the grading shed, the clock is ticking. Harvested to order, this morning’s haul is destined for London within 48 hours, where the truffles will be used by many of the capital’s two- and
three-Michelin-starred restaurants. Mel’s brother, Michael Weitzmann, nicks each one with a knife to reveal desirable white, vein-like patterns on black (truffles are as prized by some chefs for their looks as they are for their aroma). Colour, weight, condition and shape all factor into the grade (‘extra class’, ‘first class’ or ‘pieces’) and ultimately price. Over in the farmhouse kitchen, Gavin
Booth, Mel’s husband, warms himself by the wood burner as he whips up some scrambled eggs. As a former Royal Navy chef, his diet now is a far cry from seagoing rations and the food he ate growing up in the West Highlands of Scotland. “I’d say we eat truffles at least once a week when they’re in season,” he says, cracking farm-laid eggs into a bowl. To that he adds single cream, then places copious amounts of butter in a pan. Unsalted, I ask? “Hell no — salt is key,” he says. You can finely grate truffle, but with this dish, Gavin likes the textural and visual appeal of a finely chopped julienne. As I take a mouthful, I revel in the aroma of a truffle only hours out of the ground, the slight bite a contrast to the soft, luscious eggs. Gavin’s dedication to truffles is such
that, not content with simply cultivating and eating them, he co-founded an entire festival dedicated to them a decade ago. Held each winter, Truffle Kerfuffle is a seasonal pilgrimage, a magnet for gourmet travellers from across Australia and as far afield as Singapore, Hong Kong, the UK and the US. Surrounded by farms, its home, Fonty’s Pool, offers a bucolic backdrop; what was originally part of a farm dam for irrigation became a local swimming spot in the early 20th century and is still used as such, although only a brave few are willing to take a dip here during the Australian winter. It still serves an agricultural function as part of a connected
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