This is a love story about a man and a woman, a pig called Mademoiselle and amèrde-load of truffle. If you were a publisher or film producer I would beembarrassed to pitch this to you, but it’s all true—just ask my co-writer. Myfungal collaborator is sitting next to me on the table, he is a rough diamond—black, slightly misshapen and with a few cuts on his skin. But he’s not bleeding,just exposing the sharp white veins that filigree his black, rather smelly flesh.I’m in love with him and it is his magnificent aroma that guides my hand as Idissect his Wagyu-esque contours.Black Perigord [tuber melanosporum—the Dom Perignon of truffles] have been in thenews this month all over the country. From Tasmania to Manjimup in WA, the annualtruffle harvest is in full swing.But as I said, this is a love story—no investment prospectus, no projected yields,no promises of a tax break—just passion, hard work and a love of the garden andthe table.About forty years ago Heather, a young adventurous Australian nurse like many ofher generation, embarks on a Greek ship for a working holiday in swinging London.On a break from nursing she finds herself having breakfast in a small café inPerigord, southwest France. She orders a truffle omelette and its memory will staywith her for the rest of her life.On returning to Australia she meets Bruce and after a whirlwind romance theymarry.Bruce is a renowned engineer and his work takes them all over the world.It’s a fine marriage, with two talented children who from a very early ageaccompany them through a life full of the pleasures of the table. But after fortyyears, with the children following their own exciting careers, they decide allthis travelling has to stop; finally a permanent place of one’s own beckons.A site is carefully selected that will express their true passion for the land.Somewhere to grow fruit, some nuts, some fine cattle. A place for the horses andperhaps some whimsy. Heather nostalgically names it Truffle Farm.The timing is perfect; a year later Heather reads that Black Truffle has beensuccessfully cultivated in Tasmania so they order some trees from Tim Terry. Theysend for two types of oak—deciduous and the evergreen Holly—along with somehazelnuts, all inoculated with tuber melanosporum. This is the dawn of the truffleindustry in Australia; not much is known about growing truffles but Heather isdetermined to have a go at it. The hazelnuts don’t make it due to an accident inthe laboratory but with only a few technical tips from Terry in Tasmania theybegin to plant the truffière on a rise with Bass Strait in the distance. Theacidity of the soil means that a lot of lime is needed and they decide not toirrigate, rather putting their faith into nature. Patiently the property isdeveloped; there are walnuts, gooseberries, Jerusalem artichokes, an orchard,citrus, a small vegetable garden along with the dogs and a couple of guinea fowl…a bucolic idyll begins to take shape.Over the next five years they tend the truffiere, dutifully applying lime eachyear but not doing much else. Nature is largely left to do its thing. Mademoiselleis found and slowly trained for her special work. The roots of the treescommunicate harmoniously with the underground fungi and last year—six years afterplanting—they find the first truffles, about a half a kilo. They cook some andgive lots away, quietly celebrating the result of their combined passion.Fast forward to about two weeks ago, Heather and Bruce have a bit of a look andunearth a kilo of magnificent specimens! When I visit I am amazed by the trufflesand utterly charmed by the passion of their human servants.The following Tuesday I am introduced to Mademoiselle (French for Miss, as inPiggy), the trained chercheuse, and we are led by her magnificent nose into thisperfumed garden. A couple of hours later, giggling like school children we descendback to the house to admire and clean our magnificent bounty.There are many types of black truffle, all very similar, and although our nosestell us these are genuine tuber melanosporum, we need an expert to help uspositively identify them.