Tuscan Truffle Trophy

I’m just back from the second annual Tuscan truffle hound competition organised by Riccardo, my truffle hunter.

Dogs this way

Tuscan Truffle Association banner

If it’s not much of a spectator sport, at least it demonstrates the method used and patience needed to train a dog to be a good truffle hound. There are very few breeds that can’t excel, but you have to start the training when they’re just a few weeks old. Give them simple commands, teach them to retrieve a stick and eventually bury a plastic capsule with a fragment of truffle in it for the puppy to find—over and over and over again.

The competition is about as exciting as a village cricket match without the beer tent. Very little happens, but it does have the merit of being easy to understand the rules, unlike cricket (at least for me). I used to listen occasionally to a cricket match on the radio enjoying the foreign language of the commentators. Truffle hunters also have their own language which seems to consist of one- or two-syllable utterances to which the dogs rarely listen. This video will give you an idea.

Burying the capsule could cause backache

Mangled capsule

Riccardo explains the psychology of training: dogs are pack animals and the man (I haven’t met a female truffle hunter yet) has to play the role of leader of the pack. Some men don’t have it in them.

Who's in charge?

Dog? What dog?

I didn't feel like digging truffles today anyway.

Others have figured out how to motivate their dogs to keep their noses to the ground.

Two noses are better than one.

This well-trained nose has found a truffle capsule.

Riccardo and Teo demonstrate best form. Note his subtle hand movements.

Now for some fun!

You're boss. What shall we do?

We'll crisscross the ring. Over there first.

Now to the right.

Well done!

While not exactly electrifying, the location is beautiful and the camaraderie enjoyable. What better way to spend a sunny Sunday than chatting to friends while sitting on a stone wall in the shade of a pergola at San Vivaldo monastery.

Convento San Vivaldo

Chewing the fat

When the trials are finished, all the dogs and owners converge on the ring to retrieve the buried capsules.

All noses to the deck

At this point a Franciscan friar emerges and surveys the scene.

Note the size of the opening...

...and the size of the friar.

He gazes at the small square marked out on the lawn, shakes his head and states that surely in so small a space every dog would find every truffle.

If he got through the door, maybe his dog could find all the capsules.

Meanwhile, the certificates are being prepared and the prize-giving begins.

Elegant

In 15th place, the man whose dog found none.

He needs the friar's magic.

No one’s a loser.

Everyone gets a bottle of wine and a bag of dog biscuits

In first place, a man no one knows. He wants to be notified of the next contest, but doesn’t understand what an email address is.

The truffle trophy winner (left)

What sets a Tuscan truffle hound competition apart from a cricket match is lunch. We drift into Il Focolare (‘the hearth’), a restaurant in the cellars of one wing of the monastery, for an abundant and well-cooked lunch.

What every friar's cellar needs

What? No plastic capsules for antipasto?

They must be hiding in the cannelloni.

Roast pork, guinea fowl & chargrilled steak

Riccardo and I have taken many guests on real truffle hunts (no plastic capsules) followed by a truffle lunch at Riccardo’s home (click November, but you can hunt truffles in almost any month).  We’ve also designed an intensive truffle course, and soon we’ll have a truffle weekend on offer as well. Let me know if you’d like to be notified when it’s ready: [email protected].