I went into Truffle Town knowing almost nothing about truffles beyond the fact that they’re expensive and they show up shaved over pasta. I came out with a real appreciation for the craft, the land, and the people of Sarrión, a small Spanish town whose whole rhythm seems tuned to what’s happening beneath the soil.The documentary does something rare: it slows you down. Growing truffles turns out to be an exercise in patience and faith. You tend the ground for years for a harvest you can’t see, and then a hunter and dog work the earth together by scent. There’s something almost poetic about a treasure that announces itself only through aroma.It’s also genuinely eye-opening. I had no idea that most supermarket truffle oil contains little or no actual truffle. Instead it relies on a single synthetic compound meant to imitate an aroma that, in a real truffle, comes from hundreds of elements working together. Even more surprising was the trade in cheap Chinese truffles, a look-alike species with almost no flavor of its own. They are doused with artificial aroma and passed off as the prized black truffle. Learning that made the authentic article, and the people devoted to producing it, feel that much more precious.By the end, I didn’t just want to taste a fresh truffle. I wanted to go to Sarrión, stand in those fields, and eat one where it was grown. Any documentary that makes you want to book a trip has done its job beautifully.Highly recommended for anyone who loves food, craft, or the stories of small places that do one thing extraordinarily well.5 big stars… or should I say 5 big MICHELIN stars

Of course I won’t say, but it’s shocking most people (myself included) have been pouring truffle salt and truffle god knows what down my throat. I’m wondering how old the truffles at high end restaurants are as well. My next trip is definitely to _______ . ;) The truffle is out of the bag!