Technically, true truffles are those fungi that belong to the Ascomycota phylum of organisms and are marketed as food. What sets truffles apart from mushrooms is that their spore-laden fruit forms below ground rather than above. These fleshy organs are temporary reproductive structures that produce spores, which eventually germinate and give rise to new offspring. Truffles, like mushrooms, are the fruit of fungi. These findings are informing strategies for conserving some endangered species that rely on these denizens of the underworld. Over the past two decades, however, genetic analyses and field observations have clarified the origins and functions of these organisms, revealing that they play key roles in many ecosystems. Yet despite humanity’s abiding interest in the fungi, much about their biology has remained veiled in mystery. Modern epicures prize truffles for their earthy aroma and flavor and are willing to pay steep prices at the market-recently more than $3,000 per kilogram for the Italian white variety. The Romans savored them and thought they were produced by thunder. Bedouins, Kalahari Bushmen and Australian Aborigines have hunted them for countless generations in deserts. The Pharaoh Khufu served them at his royal table.

Throughout history, truffles have appeared on the menu and in folklore. Though not the finest example of the species, Tuber magnatum-which grows only in northern Italy, Serbia and Croatia-Clinto’s find will fetch a nice price of about $50 at the Saturday market. He extracts a yellowish brown lump the size of a golf ball and sniffs it. “He uses both paws only when he finds one of those.” Mirko gently pulls the excited dog from the spot and pushes through the soil with his fingers. “Ah, he’s found an Italian white truffle,” Mirko explains. Suddenly, he stops and begins to dig furiously with both paws. Clinto runs back and forth among the oak trees sniffing the ground, pausing, then running again. We are strolling through the woods with truffle hunter Mirko Illice and his little dog, Clinto. It’s a cool November day near Bologna, Italy.

Hidden folks truffle