We pick up our rental car and we’re off (not before I’m whining about no GPS available). First stop is Asti, as I LOVE muscato d’asti. We get there and walk through the old part of town, but not too much going on and certainly no wine stores offering tastes and shipping, like I’d seen on my previous trip. We do land in the local market and sample cheeses (a slice of fresh made ricotta – so sweet and light – for $0.30!) and olives and then back into the car to get to Alba, where Leonardo is going to meet up with us. We make it there and pay our 2 euro and enter the tented area where we are overcome with the musky, earthy smell of truffles.
They are kept under glass, but anytime you approach a stand, they pull up the glass and let you get a snootful. The bigger they are, the more per kilo because of the richer smell and taste. OMG! Each stand has a sniff, or a taste of some incredibly good cheeses with varying levels of stinkiness, and then you can also hold up your glass to taste wine or (yay!) muscat. I indulge in a plate of pasta that I carry over to the winemaster, and he whips out his truffle shaver and gives it a go.
Best served on this particular type of egg noddles coated with butter or on a fried egg, it’s so yummy. We purchase a couple nuggets of white truffles, some parmesan dip with white truffles, and we’re out as dusk approaches. We follow Leonardo back up to Torino, to a restaurant he chose because we can bring in our own truffle and they will shave on top of our entree of choice.
We sit and smile, tell the waiter we have our own truffles, and order dinner. When Michael and my pasta arrives, we pull out the truffles and the waiter (indignantly) says: I will not shave that, it is dirty! I ask him to clean and he says he can’t because it takes way too long and I should have asked at the beginning of the meal. I ask if I can use his shaver, and he says no, that would ruin it. He leaves and I am getting quite worked up – after all, this is the whole and only reason we came to this restaurant. Wouldn’t it have been better customer service to have asked when we first told him, whether it was clean or not? But I’m learning that this is not really the Italian way. I look at Leonardo, who is digging into his dinner, and he seems content to let it go. But you all know me, and not knowing if I can even bring them back to the states, I insist he ask for a knife. Another waiter brings us a sharp little knife, and I peel the truffles (saving the savings of course!), then slice onto Michael and my pasta. Success!
After dinner, we head to our respective hotels and make plans for a morning rendezvous for heading to Moncalvo and the big birthday luncheon.