I can’t pinpoint the time or place when or where truffles (genus tubar, sub genus hypogecous ascomycetes) first came into my consciousness, but I know it wasn’t in San Angelo. I suspect it was in the mid 80’s and in Paris…..France that is. S. and I were wandering the streets and found ourselves in Place de l’Opera. On the one hand, the edifice of Palais Garnier, home of the inestimable Paris Ballet de l”Opera and on the other, Fouchon, the pinnacle of French gourmet foods. Of course, I opted for the food instead of culture. It was there, I think, that I first saw a blackish, golf ball sized orb that resembled a desiccated monkey brain. I remember wondering a) why anyone would eat such a thing, and b) why it should cost a small fortune.
Over the ensuing years I would occasionally find myself in the type of restaurant that would shave a bit of a truffle over some mediocre lasagna so they could charge more. I also think I was served a salad with some truffle shavings decorating the plate. But I never, to my knowledge, came face to face (or tongue to food) with truffle oil (TO) until the changing of the chefs at The Mansion on Turtle Creek…an occasional hang out of ours.
First a word about truffle oil. It isn’t really made from truffles. I know this may be a bit confusing to those of you not knowledgeable in the ways of the foodie world, but there it is. We have Chilean Sea Bass that is neither Chilean nor a Bass. We have hot dogs that are not hot and have nothing to do with dogs. We have free range chickens that have never seen a range and are certainly not free. So it should be no big surprise that truffle oil contains no truffles. It only smells like it is made from the oily residue of a truffle, but in fact it is 2,4 dithiapentane (mixed with olive oil). Since dithiapentane is the chemical substance which gives truffles their unique smell, the more accurate way to refer to truffle oil would be an “aromatic hydrocarbon”. But I guess that wouldn’t sell too well. Actually I am told by a confidential source that the world renowned restaurant in Napa Valley, The French Laundry” puts TO on their truffles so they will smell more like, well, truffles.
Back to my unfortunate initial encounter with truffle oil. S. and I had slipped next door to the Mansion Bar for a light repast. Wanting, in part, to try out the new Chef, John Tesar , formerly of the Mandalay Bay Hotel and Casino in LV, and also wanting a quick, simple meal. We did try out the Chef, but our meal was neither simple nor quick. It started well as the maitre d’hotel welcomed us by name and handed us off to the bar staff which seated us at the power table in the corner. To me, being seated at the right table is almost as important as the right parking spot at a rock concert or a Maverick’s game. We had a cocktail and surveyed the revised menu wherein it was immediately clear that Chef Tesar was trying to put the legacy of former Mansion Restaurant guru/chef Dean Fearing far behind him. S. ordered a salad and I ordered a “something” with a side of fries. The fact that I can’t remember the entre should be a strong indication of what’s to come. After an inordinately long wait and two not so gentle prods of our wait person, our meal arrived…..looking good, but then again I was in a pretty foul mood having had to wait so long for bar food.
I’m a no ketchup person, and S. has long since trained me not to engage the salt shaker until I’ve tasted, so I started with just one fry….crisp and browned appropriately and piping hot, but with a somewhat “off” scent. I went for the second and the third thinking, “how can you screw up french fries?” I finally called for the wait person who by now was trying to avoid me by crouching behind the piano player. I said, in what I thought was a mostly civil tone, “there’s something wrong with these fries.” The wait person was expecting something, but not this. She said tactfully, “er, what’s wrong with them, sir?” “I dunno”, I said, “I think the potatoes may be rotten or something”. She snatched the fries and fluttered toward the kitchen saying, “I’ll check with the Chef”. After another inordinately long wait, which did not bode well, she returned and said, “truffle oil, what you’re tasting is truffle oil”. Now I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. I said calmly, or at least I thought I was calm, “why in the hell would anyone put truffle oil on french fries?” The wait person retreated a step, and said, “that’s the way the chef said they should be.” I thought, but did not say, well maybe the Chef can get by with this kind of stuff in LV where the schmucks don’t know good food from a poker chip, but not here, not in Texas where french fries were invented.
Bill Anderson, the restaurant critic for the Dallas Morning News wrote that he hated to be….”bludgeoned by it’s stinking almost nauseating wallop……even a few drops can be considered food (sic) abuse.” Hah, so there, I’m not the only truffle oil hater around. Addison, now my best foodie friend, went on to take even higher ground by saying, “truffle oil is almost as bad as liquid smoke or other artificial flavoring concocted in a lab and not in the garden or kitchen”.
My own assessment is that if it’s made in the lab, there it ought to stay…food wise. If it tastes like a cross between over aged parmesan cheese and week old pan drippings of roasted meat with a hint of immature garlic, it’s probably truffle oil, and some recent graduate of the Culinary Institute of America (CIA) is using it because “he’s trying to add a gloss of glamour to something that doesn’t need or deserve it”.
