Truffle, the end

Day 6. The preparations are made. Some friends coming for dinner. A simple but elegant menu. The first course: truffle risotto. With the rice from the truffle jar and the truffle in thin, thin slices, half added a few minutes before serving, the other half garnishing our individual portions. Made with homemade veal stock thinned with water - tasty, but delicate, to backdrop, not compete with the truffle.

A second course of scallopine with Marsala, steamed green beans and braised celery. Barolo in the glasses, 1997 from Angelo Boffa. Some great locally made vanilla ice cream and mango sorbet for dessert.My friend's making the risotto, the piéce gets full concentration. 'Massaging the starch out of the rice', as it says in some recipe. I'm doing the rest.

There's a little white spot on the truffle. Not. I start peeling. The spot isn't only white, but soft. Not. I peel some more, cut the soft spot out. Ammonia. Not. It stinks. The beautiful, seductive truffle smell has metamorphed into an ancient camembert. We tried... The other side. The middle. Ammonia.

We took the plate with the paper-thin slices of truffle to the table to look at... The risotto was delicious... Good wine, good food.... good company.....