Gettin' figgy widdit.

On any given Sunday in this period in between high summer and the cooling autumn there are still festivals and events galore, with the added bonus that most of the tourists have headed home. The locals come to the forefront, in full eccentricity, dogs in tow. Have you ever seen a three-wheeler motorcycle with spousal and canine seating? I can now say that I have. In Uzes, the event of the day centered around donkeys (purebred, natch, from the Provence) and plants. Free rides for the kiddos, in the hopes of luring buyers for the sweetly curious quadripeds. Buy at least two, lest they get lonely...

The sun is still in force, but the first leaves have begun to drop from the dehydrated plane trees.

To avoid our own dehydration, a leisurely stop for a noisette, before the plant browsing begins in earnest. A matter of pacing, you know.

Then there's day-dreaming over exotic chutneys and jams...

Yes, you read right: clementine and gingerbread, rose petal, apricot/peach/melon, and bananas flambee. So many flavors, so little time to experiment with my own variations...

I was taken by this hibiscus cocinea, purportedly able to withstand temperatures as low as -15 C/5 F. Are you familiar with it? Is it the time I've spent in Amsterdam that makes me think the leaves look smokeable?

If you aren't in the mood for marijuana, how about some "love in a cage"?

This is more my speed, to fill up those gaps as the deciduous plants begin to drop their leaves.I've all the herbs I need at home (or at least all the ones that can grow in my garden). Except garlic, I still buy that. What's more, the figs are ripening beautifully (from the tree the crows haven't been scavenging).After consulting the latest Elle à table, I pick the ripest figs for a quick, sumptuous noonday dessert: figs poached in lemon balm and muscat, which I served atop some velvety fromage blanc. In the original recipe, the figs are served as a dessert soup; I dialed down the sugar and turned up the lemon balm.If you can't find lemon balm, fresh, slightly crushed rosemary would make a charming substitute. Lacking any fresh herbs, you could add a few drops of a good vanilla extract (say a 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon) and a few grinds of fresh ground black pepper...The figs can also be served with a good vanilla bean ice cream or a slice of pound cake, with perhaps a smidgen of mascarpone, just to be decadent... The poaching liquid quickly takes a deep blush from the purple figs--and a fabulously figgy taste--so much so that I used the extra sauce to make fig kirs, using white wine. Here's to Sundays that still feel like the best of summer!
Figues pochées à la mélisse (Figs Poached in Lemon Balm and Muscat)

1 kg figs
2 cups Muscat or other sweet wine
100 g sugar
1 cinnamon stick
very generous handful of lemon balm

Having added the sugar and cinnamon stick, reduce the wine by half over a high flame. Lower the heat and add the whole figs and lemon balm, allow them to simmer gently for ten minutes. Clip the hard tips from the figs before serving; slice if desired. May be eaten warm or chilled.

The black diamond.

I've successfully weaned myself from the annual state of holiday gluttony, with the exception of a persistent hankering for one dirt-encrusted little jewel. And so it was I found myself making the pilgrimage this past weekend to Uzès for the truffle market, held as always the third Sunday in January. While the truffle season begins in October, the truffles are at their most fragrant in January--as long as Mother Nature cooperates and there hasn't been too much frost. (This year, as you can see from earlier posts, hasn't been great for truffles.)

Just as last year, I took the winding roads past the austerely dormant fields of Uzège grapevines, and drove under a Roman aqueduct, Uzès having served as the spring for Nîmes in Roman times. I stared rather hard at the surrounding trees, particularly the oaks and hazelnut, for under these trees a mysterious and symbiotic relationship may perhaps be blooming. About 15 centimeters underground, that is.

Some choice tuber melanosporum.

The truffle is a fungus appreciated since antiquity, but finding it has never been simple. Certainly at least since the 1600s, the truffle hunter depends upon the better sense of smell of a certain type of fly (yes, there are fly-trufflers!), a dog--or a porker. Specifically a sow, for she is apparently more manageable and adept at locating the truffle than a male pig. Among the odors a truffle exudes is a musky substance similar to the male pig hormone, and a piglet can be trained within three weeks to hunt for one. Working with a sow requires quickness, endurance and strength, however, as she can weigh a stubborn 220 pounds, and unlike a dog, she very much wants that truffle for herself. As you might imagine, dogs are becoming far more common.

Some truffles receive official benediction.

Today, about 80% of French black truffles are cultivated (as opposed to the white truffles of Italy, which grow only in the wild). Most black truffles thus come from truffle grounds, where oak or other trees have been infected with the fungus and planted. As at least a decade goes by before any chance of harvest, many farmers plant lavender or grapevines alongside to ensure some source of interim income. Cultivation of the truffle remains a demanding and uncertain endeavor.

Some argue against formal truffle production, as there has been a steady decline in truffles since the late 1800s, which is when truffle cultivation began. To give you an idea: in the early twentieth century, about a thousand metric tons of truffles were harvested annually in France, while today a good annual yield may reach thirty tons. It is argued that the modern agricultural and forestry methods being used have resulted in the destruction of natural flora and fauna. This loss negatively affects truffles, whose development is delicate and depends on an exceedingly complex interaction and precise balance of the soil, climate and biosphere.

Once harvested, the most sublime culinary marriage, as argued historically and by those in the know, is perhaps truffle and foie gras. The heady melding of flavors is inoubliable-- unforgettable--but this is also a pretty decadent double-whammy of a luxury if done right. I tried something new this time over lunch, an aperitif made of white wine, chestnut brandy and truffle essence. My verdict? Put the pungent truffle in dishes rather than drink. And keep to raw shavings, or add as late as possible in the actual cooking. Truffle plays to perfection with scallops, potatoes, pasta and risotto, and chicken. Or with pâté, as in the tasty little pastry-covered traditions from Nîmes in the photo below. Don't forget how easy it is to make your own truffle oil using extra virgin, mild olive oil, as the possibilities then extend even further.
And of course there's the simple egg. Grab some very fresh eggs, organic if possible, put them in a mason jar, tuck in a truffle, close and refrigerate for a day or two, then take a moment to make scrambled eggs. The Romans were convinced truffles, cloaked as they are even today in certain mysteries, have distinct aphrodisiac properties. Perhaps they had this dish in mind.

OEufs Brouillés aux Truffes/Scrambled Eggs with Black Truffles

Serves two. Of course, this can be doubled if you're feeling especially starved--or social.

30 g fresh black truffle
1 small garlic clove, split and the bitter green sprout in center removed
15 g butter or olive oil
6 room temperature eggs (that have preferably been stored with the truffle)
fresh ground pepper and salt to taste
walnut bread or hearty country bread

Cut two generous slices of truffle, set aside, and finely chop the remainder. Lightly rub the bottom of a frying pan with the split garlic. Add a spoonful of butter and the minced truffle. Just warm the minced truffle over low heat, do not overheat. Transfer the truffle to a mixing bowl, add the room temperature eggs and briefly beat with a fork.

Cover and set aside to "infuse", for twenty minutes. Toast slices of bread, cutting into quarters lengthwise (so they look somewhat like long ladyfingers). Warm two plates in the oven at low heat.

Melt a spoonful of butter in the frying pan, add the infused eggs and salt and pepper. Cook over low heat until the eggs are just set, and the consistency of a quite moist omelet. Serve the scrambled eggs on the warmed plates, and garnish each serving with a trufle slice.

The blessed truffle.

The most well-known truffle market of the Gard (in the Languedoc) takes place in Uzes. While the Perigord in the Southwest is arguably better known for its black truffles, it is actually the southeast--primarily the Provence and the Languedoc--which produces by far the lion's share of French truffles. (France as a whole accounts for nearly half of the world's supply of this costly fungi, the tuber melanosporum).

Uzes remains one of my favorite cities to wander--in the off-season. The first duchy of France, Uzes has had a long, extremely wealthy past that can be traced to the Romans. In fact, the 17th century chapel in which the remains of the dukes are buried was built upon the remains of the first century temple honoring Octavian Augustus, the first Roman emperor.
I arrived early in Uzes in order to attend mass at Cathedrale Saint-Theodorit. While I am not a Catholic, I am incurably curious, and this was no ordinary mass: there was to be a benediction of truffles involved.With pomp and pagentry, some of the finest truffles were carried to the altar. There was a large choir, and the priest made interesting parallels and invoked lessons from the life and harvest of the humble, precious tuber. Afterward, we all gathered behind the truffles to slowly make our way toward the main square where the auction of the blessed truffles was to be conducted (with proceeds to go back to the parish).
Mr. le President of the trufficulteurs du Gard waits for the blessed truffles, empty basket in hand and daughter by his side.

The auction was competing for visitors' attention with the preparation of the giant brouillade aux truffes (scrambled eggs with truffles--didn't it sound more special in French?) This involved a gigantic saucepan that was stirred simultaneously by four strong men over a bonfire. For those with higher culinary expectations, a number of Michelin-starred chefs had prepared mouth-watering menus. The rest of us just wandered from vendor to vendor, eyeing every possible culinary permutation of and/or literary treatise on the truffle.

You can buy special truffle-delivering oak trees (certified--of course--as having been impregnated with the fungus), and products to help train your dog in the art of truffle-sniffing. You can watch demonstrations of truffle-sniffing dogs (no pork was present). You can buy all the requisite tools to harvest and prepare truffles--all sorts of hand picks, brushes, mandolines, etc.
Or you can get a little light-headed with the dense, enveloping aroma of the truffles, seek out a slightly dirty, fresh treasure (of a quite modest size given the cost), find an empty conserves jar at home, tuck the little black purchase in with five new eggs and close the lid tightly.

We'll be having our own little brouillade in a few days, once that truffle has infused the eggs, through their porous shells, with the deep dark essence of itself.