Sunday, 29 August 2010


My truffle dilemma was no closer to being solved this morning, and after committing major carb-icide last night at the gastronomical haven that is the hotel restaurant, I was in no mood to comb the countryside looking for a new angle. And when told that black truffle (available all year) was to white truffle what Cava is to Dom Perignon, my sloppy seconds of an idea was also shelved. But what started out as a trip to the local vineyard later in the day quickly turned into a window of opportunity...a charming family who produce Barolo had us captivated as they recounted tales of generations past and their passion for the trade...After a fabulous lunch of vitello tonnato and perfect parcels of ravioli overlooking the hills, I knew I had a fairytale of a story to tell...Off to celebrate at the spa...What are truffles compared to human interest and a vintage bottle of red?

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