AUSTRALIAN TRUFFLES GROW NEW ROOTS

Australian farmers are expanding the pricey fungi’s availability, and chefs couldn’t be happier.

Thanks to Australia, truffles have been on the menu at the French Laundry this summer. The Yountville, Calif., restaurant, which books up several months in advance, has been using more than two kilograms of Australian truffles—worth about $4,500—a week, in dishes like potatoes confit with summer pole beans, radishes and crème fraiche, or suckling pig with pluots, Belgian endive, Sicilian pistachios and watercress.
“It’s such a unique opportunity to have this now in the summer,” says Timothy Hollingsworth, French Laundry’s chef de cuisine. “Before, fresh truffles have only been a winter thing.” Black truffles have a long history in France, conjuring images of foragers chasing after dogs sniffing the forest floor. But only in late autumn and early winter, when they are ripe and lend themselves to cool-weather dishes.
Australian farmers, seeing a potential geographic advantage, began growing the mushrooms in the 1990s—sometimes before they’d even tasted a truffle—and are now seeing the fruits of their labor and patience.
The country is wrapping up its biggest truffle season in history and expects to collect 4.5 metric tons (about 10,000 pounds) this year, according to the Australian Truffle Growers Association, up from virtually zero just seven years ago. That’s a tenth of France’s haul last winter, but Australia’s production is growing 30% a year, says the growers association’s president, Graham Duell, and he expects it to reach 10 metric tons by 2015.
“It’s a great season, in both quantity and quality,” he says. “Our truffles have become very well-accepted, and it’s still growing.” The truffles grown in Australia are the same species as the famous Perigord ones cultivated in France, and they fetch similar prices: $1,150 per kilogram at wholesale, with top-grade ones going higher. Chefs say they are virtually identical in taste and aroma.

But the Australian ones differ from their French cousins in two significant ways: They’re farmed, not foraged in the wild as they are in France. Secondly, they’re harvested during Australia’s winter months of July to September, long before their European counterparts are ready.
About 80% of Australia’s harvest is exported, Mr. Duell says, with the U.S. and Asia having the biggest appetite. “Europe has been reluctant,” he adds, pointing out that while Germans have embraced the product, people elsewhere on the Continent have been slow to take it up.
Still, having fresh truffles available during the Northern Hemisphere’s summer is so enticing that even some French chefs have—with some reservations—placed orders. Benjamin Bruno, chef at Chez Bruno in Lorgues, started buying Australian truffles last month after hearing about them from one of his cooks who used to work in New Zealand. He hunted down a distributor in Germany and added them to his menu, which is known for puff pastry stuffed with pigeon, foie gras and truffles; and potatoes in a truffle-cream sauce with fresh shavings of the mushroom.
“They’re a very good product,” he says. “The only thing that bothers me is that they’re farmed, not wild. It’s not like what we get in France.” At the French Laundry, the availability has allowed Mr. Hollingsworth to test new flavors. “Fresh corn and truffles works phenomenally,” he says. “We use it a lot with squash, peas, beets, and even some fruits.”
Diners are sometimes surprised to see them on a midsummer plate, he adds, “but once they smell them, they’re blown away.” Suzette Gresham-Tognetti, executive chef and co-owner of Acquerello, an Italian restaurant in San Francisco, calls their summer availability “a boon to creativity.” She’s serving them in a steak tartare and sea urchin dish as well as shaving them over mortadella-stuffed tortellini.
Earlier this summer, she used them in a salad with nectarines and plums—“shockingly good,” she says. Frank Brunacci, an Australian-born chef in Chicago, runs a truffle-importing business, selling throughout the U.S. He promoted the ingredient during the three-day Lollapalooza festival in Chicago earlier this month, selling truffled macaroni and cheese and grilled cheese sandwiches with truffled brie from a booth.
Even foodies are still discovering it, he says. “I do events everywhere, and chefs come up to tell me they’ve never heard of it.” In Australia, truffle farmers got their start in Western Australia state, Tasmania and the region around Canberra, planting hazelnut and oak trees inoculated with truffle melano-Continued from previous page sporum, the fungus that eventually leads to the black mushrooms. The fungus attaches to the trees’ roots and develops into a larger mushroom underground.
It costs about 30,000 Australian dollars (US$31,674) per hectare to start a farm, Mr. Duell says, and takes at least five years after initial planting for the fungus to develop into a fully formed truffle, with some farmers waiting for a decade to reap their first meaningful harvest.
There are about 200 truffle growers in the country, though fewer than a dozen are growing enough to be considered significant producers. Most farms are still awaiting their first substantial haul. Mr. Duell is among them: He planted one hectare of truffle-inoculated trees 12 years ago and has yet to produce a truffle. “I’m waiting,” he says.
Alf Salter, founder of Australian Wine & Truffle, is the country’s largest producer, with plans to harvest 2.4 metric tons from his farm in Western Australia this year. He planted his first trees in 1997 and now has 20 hectares dedicated to the crop. His first truffle didn’t appear until 2005; his first major harvest happened the following year.
“I didn’t know anything about truffles back then. It just looked like an opportunity to make money,” he says, adding that he had never tasted the delicacy when he first planted the trees. “But I do like them now, in simple dishes like over eggs or pasta. I’m no chef. Most Aussies aren’t either.”
Near Canberra, Peter Marshall expects about 200 kilograms from his truffle farm this year, with 20% marked for export. A trained forester, he planted his first inoculated trees 10 years ago. He tasted his first truffle in 2006, and aside from that sample, hasn’t tried any truffles other than those from his farm.

Mr. Marshall believes the international demand for Australian truffles can easily sustain the tremendous growth in production, even if the harvest in coming years “doubles and doubles again,” he said. But he’s concerned that many wannabe Australian producers have rushed into truffle farming, dreaming of riches, with little knowledge of the craft. “A lot of patches aren’t producing anything,” he said.
Each region boasts a different flavor, says Simon Friend, a Melbourne-based distributor. Those from Western Australia have a more “floral and chocolaty” aroma while those from Tasmania are earthier in flavor, he said. Chefs debate which ones they prefer. Galvin Lim, executive chef at Les Amis in Singapore, calls Tasmania’s “the best, by far,” serving them with his white asparagus and a poached egg appetizer as well as the restaurant’s Wagyu ribeye dish.
But developing a niche, luxury product comes with its own rarefied learning curve. In 2011, Mr. Marshall, still new to the European market, sent a 600-gram, softball-sized truffle to a gourmet retailer in Paris. He thought it would be received with open arms, not knowing that small, delicate truffles are the prized ones, he says. “The French were horrified.”

By Jason Chow in "The Wall Street Journal (Weekend Edition) 24-26 August 2012 (Asia). Adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa