A question I am often asked.
Rather surprisingly I have an answer, maybe this one wasn’t the best…. but it was a bit of a revelation and bloody good.

It was I think 2006 and I attended the Slow Food Salone in Turin (an event so huge that it took over the entire city) as a chef I was invited and other similar chefs had been invited were put together in a hotel out in the sticks.
Sandro, the sole Italian in our delegation, having observed the pap we were getting for supper in the hotel told us that the following night he was going to drive us into the mountains for a Real Italian Meal.
So , the following night, in Sandro’s Fiat we headed forth: two American (one and American Indian), one Italian, one Englishman, and one Irishman (moi).

After a few hours drive up the mountains we parked outside the door of (what seemed to me) a fairly routine cafe.
Inside we were greeted cordially by the host (son of the chef as I remember) and sat down to Antipasti- pleasant but unexceptional.
Nota Bene that we were not offered either menus or choices.

Then came the interesting bit.

The waiter arrived out with six hot plates which he placed in front of us.

On each ( rather to my chagrin) were two fried eggs , (barely set) and a mound of very light , creamy puree potatoes.

We were mostly looking fairly askance when Senor arrived out again with a little mandolin and a silver dish on which rested five perfect white truffles.
Then in front of our astonished eyes, Senor grated an exquisite truffle on top of each plate of eggs and potato.

The smell alone of the flakes of truffle as they landed on the warm potatoes and eggs would have made the journey worthwhile- the tastes were ethereal.

I can no longer remember what (if anything)we were offered for desert.
The smell and the flavour of the truffles still remain with me.