“Quo ducit gula?”—_Latin Saying_.
“I am passionately fond of truffles, though I never tasted
them.”—XAVIER DE MONTEPIN.
One day Virgil was at table with the Emperor, and the latter complained
that his cook was a dolt, because he could never find anything new to
tempt his appetite, and that he had to eat the same kind of dishes over
and over again.
“What I would like,” he said, “would be some kind of new taste or
flavour. There must be many a one as yet unknown to the kitchen.”
Then Virgil, reflecting, said:
“I will see to-morrow if I cannot find something of the kind which will
please your Highness.” Whereupon all who were present expressed delight,
for no one doubted that he could do whatever he attempted.
So the next day Virgil went into the forests, where there were many pigs,
and considered attentively what the roots might be which they dug up with
such great care; for he had remarked that whatever men eat pigs also
like, above all other animals. And having obtained some of the roots,
which were like dark-brown or black lumps, he took them to the Emperor’s
cook, and said:
“Wash these well and cut them fine, and I will see to the cooking.”
That day the Emperor had invited several friends to see what new dish
Virgil would produce; and when they were assembled at table, Virgilio
took the roots, cut fine, put them into a pan with oil and beaten eggs,
and served them up with his own hands. And the smell thereof was so
appetizing that all cried, “_Evviva Virgilio_!” even before they had
tasted the dish. But when they had eaten of it, they were delighted
indeed, and one and all wished to know what the roots were which gave
such a delicate flavour; to which Virgil, rising, replied:
“Truffles!” {18}
And ever since that time, even at the table of the Pope, or any other
rich man, no one has ever discovered any better flavour for food than
this which was first found out by Virgil.
One day not long after this took place Virgil was in his study, when,
looking at the stone in a ring which he wore, he exclaimed: “The Emperor
wishes to see me!” And sure enough, a few minutes later a messenger
entered, saying that his imperial master desired to speak to the sage.
And, having obeyed the call, he found the Emperor ill and suffering from
an indigestion.
“_Caro Virgilio_,” exclaimed the Emperor, “I have made thee come because
I am suffering from disorder; and as that pig of a cook who caused it can
give me nothing to eat to relieve it, I have recourse to science, for I
know that thou art a great doctor.”
“Truly,” replied Virgil. “Very simple doctoring is needed here. Just
tell the cook to boil wheat-bran in water, mix it with the yolk of an
egg, and drink it in the morning before you rise.”
“Bran boiled in water!” repeated the Emperor slowly. “Just what they
give to pigs! Truly, it seems that you have brought me down to a pig’s
level, since you give me ‘hogs’ broth,’ as they call it.”
“I wonder,” exclaimed Virgil, “since your Highness is so humble, that you
do not put yourself below the pigs, because you have abused like a pig,
and many a time, that poor devil of a cook for not pleasing your palate.
It is not long since I delighted you, and had applause from all, for
serving truffles at your imperial table. Had _he_ done so, you would
have curiously inquired what the roots were and whence they came; and
having learned that they were _cibo di maiali_, or pigs’ food, you would
have cast him forth, and the truffles after him. For such is the wisdom
of this world, and so is man deluded! But as for the bran boiled in
water, whether it be pigs’ broth or not, ’tis the specific for your
illness.”
“Ah well, my dear Virgilio,” replied the Emperor, “in future serve me up
as many pigs’ dainties and give me as much pigs’-doctor stuff as you
please, provided that all be as good as truffles, or the medicine bran
broth. It is foolish to be led by mere fancies: a pig or a peasant may
know as well as a prince what is pleasant for the palate or good as a
cure. _Evviva Virgilio_!”
* * * * *
In this merry tale I have followed to the letter an undoubted original,
which was in every detail new to me; and this is the more remarkable
since there is in it decidedly the stamp and expression of a kind of
humour and philosophy which seems to be peculiar to individual or
literary genius. The joke of pigs’ dainties, pigs’ remedies, the calling
the cook a pig, and the final reduction of the Emperor to a degree below
that animal, is carried out with great ingenuity, yet as marked
simplicity.
The best truffles in Italy are sold as coming from _Norcia_, and Nortia,
who was an old Etruscan goddess, known to the original Virgil, is in
popular tradition in Tuscany the Spirit of Truffles, to whom those who
seek them address a _scongiurazione_, or evocation, which may be found in
my “Etrusco-Roman Remains.” In Christian symbolism the truffle is
associated with St. Antony and his pig. When the saint had resolved to
die by hunger, the pig dug up and brought to him a number of truffles,
the saint seeing in this an intimation by a miracle that he should eat
and live, which thing would seem to be poetically commemorated in the
_saucisses aux truffes_, or Gotha sausages, in which pork and truffles
are beautifully combined.
The most remarkable variety of the truffle is one found in the United
States, south of Pennsylvania. It is called _tuckahoe_, or Indian bread,
and, with most things American, is remarkable for bigness at least, since
it weighs sometimes fifteen pounds and hides at a depth of fifteen feet
underground. Like California fruit, it is far more remarkable for size
or weight than excellence. An incredible quantity of so-called truffles,
which appear thinly sliced or in small bits in dishes even in first-class
hotels or restaurants all over Europe, are nothing but burned potatoes,
or similar vegetable carbon, flavoured sometimes with extract of
mushrooms, but much oftener are simply tasteless soft coal. Very good
truffles, equal to the French, for which they are sold, are found in the
South of England. The truffle is, like raw meat, caviare, and oysters,
strongly stimulating food, and as a _purée_ or paste is beneficial for
anæmic invalids.