My First Truffle

It's so long since I last posted here that I feel a bit ashamed of my lack of attention to my audience, which I notice from my statcounter, has diminished to absolutely zero - not really a surprise considering my neglect.

Well, no explanations given and no excuses - basically I've been a bit rubbish.

I came back last Sunday - yes, a whole week ago, - and sort of spent the week cooped up in the apartment doing all the little jobs that need finishing off (a bit of painting here and there, boxes that need emptying etc) as well as trying to get paid for the last four months of work I've done for my London job - problems, problems, - but there is light at the end of the tunnel.

The weather has been absolutely fantastic these last few days. It's January, so, of course, it's been a bit chilly in the morning and evening but in the middle of the day it has been quite lovely - so much so that you can notice the tingle on your face when you get home. That might be also to do with driving around with the roof down - heh, the sun is out - the roof is down.

Today, the sun shone and sparkled on the top of the snow covered Pyrenees. No matter how romantic or fabulous or fantastic that might sound, there is absolutely no substitute for seeing it. My camera failed to catch the glory and my words are nothing compared to the majesty of glimpsing the sun reflecting off the snowy peaks through the winter haze. It just has to be seen first hand.

Anyway, enough of that poetic twaddle - there was a village fete and truffle market taking place at Moussoullens today and I went along. In most respects it was the same as every French village fete, which is the same as every English village fete - full of the usual suspects.

The usual suspects in the Languedoc means plenty of wine tasting opportunities, today featuring mostly Cabardes wines, fresh oysters from Bouzigues, onions from Citou, roast chestnuts, local cheeses, foie gras, naturellement, and the local village vin chaud, soupa and sandwich outlets. 'Soupa" is neither English nor French nor Spanish but is, of course, soup and needs no further description than that but does explain the completely mixed up nature of the population round here - and the soup was delicious.

This would have been just another local village fete except that it was also one of the official truffle markets of the Aude, which means there was some ceremony involved and there was a serious side to the proceedings. As the time drew near to the 2.30pm official opening, a crowd started to gather around the designated area. This had just looked like a random space with a few trestle tables but suddenly it all became very serious. The area was roped off from us, the general public, whilst the 'negotiants' set out their wares - not exactly set out, there was still much secrecy - they had their scales for weighing and their wallets and purses and they all had bags and baskets that looked as if they were bulging with truffles but they were all still firmly shut tight.

Ten minutes to go and a very serious looking man with a very serious looking moustache started to walk around the table and one by one he spoke to each of the traders, examined their wares and allowed them to open their bag or basket and empty their little black prizes out into the full view of the public. I saw no money change hands and no paperwork of any sort so am still in the dark as to what went on. The surrounding crowd was by now four or five deep at the rope and standing on walls and climbing up surrounding buildings in the hope of getting a view. Despite the melee, there was an awed silence about the proceedings.

When the moustache had finished it's tour of the traders, it spoke some incomprehensible French/Occitan and then, at exactly 2,30pm, it whacked the table very loudly and, I can only presume because I didn't understand a word, announced the market open for business. At this point the ropes were pulled aside and small children risked being crushed as the crowd surged in on the tables and traders. Not wanting to feel left out I stood on a couple of toddlers myself and got stuck in to see what all the fuss was about.

There was a lot of sniffing. There was a lot of prodding. There was quite a lot of shoulder shrugging and many an 'Alors'. it was all very serious and it was difficult not to get caught up in it all.

So I am now the proud owner of a 20 gram black truffle that cost me 20 euros, which my French friends told me was a very good deal. The question is - What am I going to do with it?