Marthe Delon, the legendary truffle hunter and her pig Kiki

(If you are reading this post on an RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)

This is Madame Marthe Delon. The name is Delon, comme Alain Delon, she said, flashing a big smile and her one remaining brown, crooked tooth. Next to her is Kiki, the most recent in the long line of Kikis. She's a truffle hunter and a pig trainer. Kiki is a truffle pig. And they are both legendary.

Though looking ever-so-perfect for the part of a French country woman she could have been cast out of Hollywood, Mme.Delon is hardly a guileless peasant. She's been interviewed on television and in magazines the world over. I watched her hold court in front of journalists and a gaggle of curious visitors, witty and unflappable, even with Kiki pushing her trying to get into her skirt and apron where she hid the truffle scented cat food she used to train the piggy. She's one remarkable woman.

By the time Kate and I arrived, Kiki had already finished showing off by digging up truffles hidden in the ground. We waited for everyone to leave and followed Mme.Delon to the house for a chat and some prunes. I should tell you: this is why I've fallen head-over-heel in love with Southwest France. Here people don't invite you to their house for coffee. They tell you to come for pruneaux. And by prunes they actually mean a little bit of prune soaked in a lot of Armagnac, or better yet, that positively flammable Eau de Vie.

You might wonder how we managed this visit. By pure luck, I'd say. Kate and I had lunch at the famous café called le Lion d'Or, where everyone comes for omelette aux truffes (truffle omelette) before the Lalbenque truffle market opens. Sitting at the table adjacent to us were two local men: a nut merchant who also does some business in truffles and his friend. They are both called Bernard. We call them les deux Bernards, the two Bernards. We struck up a conversation, and they ended up taking us around in the market for a truffle-buying lesson. They told us about this old mamie who trains pigs, and agreed to take us there for a visit.

That's how we found ourselves chez Monsieur and Madame Delon, sitting around a table covered with a plastic tablecloth in cheery green punctuated by red ladybug prints. She went inside and brought out a tray, on which sat coffee cups and a large glass jar filled almost to the top with round local prunes macerated in Eau de Vie. Serious stuff, that.

We had a lovely conversation. Though I mostly had to strain my ears trying to understand the really harsh local accent, with every single syllable pronounced and each vowel forced and elongated. Luckily Kate was there -when my head cocked just a little too far to one side- to whisper a quick word or two in translation.

From what I gathered, Mme.Delon got her first pig the year she was married, and over sixty years later she is still hunting truffles and training generation after generation of pigs –one each year, and each one given the same name, Kiki. She said she couldn't be bothered remembering the names of them all, so she just called them Kiki. Easy enough, yes?

Kate, who just took home a darling little pup called Bacon, wanted to know how to train a truffle dog or pig. How many truffles must we sacrifice to train a dog, she wondered? Flashing yet another big smile, Mme.Delon revealed to us her secret. No, she doesn't feed her Kikis real truffle, silly. She keeps some truffles with cat food, so that the nibbles take on the scent of truffles. That's what she uses to train the pigs. Cat food! Mon Dieu!

Then the conversation got a little bit grim. Everyone in the truffle business is now concerned with the invasion of Brumale, an inferior but much more vigorous specie that is taking over the natural habitat of the Melanosporum, the specie we know as the real black truffles. Truffle oaks sold with spore-impregnated roots must have introduced that inferior specie into the environment, and now they are sadly everywhere. More and more Brumales show up at truffle markets every year, they said. And it's almost impossible to differentiate Brumale and Melanosporum when still covered in dirt. As we would find out the hard way just a bit later.

So what do you ladies do, Mme.Delon turned the table, and we found ourselves at the receiving end of the interview. I write about food on some silly site on the Internet, I said, and Kate is a cookery teacher and food writer. Food. Wonderful. We have something in common: she spent thirty years cooking the famous omelette aux truffes at Le Lion d'Or. Did we have the poule au pot, by chance, she asked? That's her recipe too.

(to be continued)

Comments

[bea at La tartine gourmande]

This is such a fun read Pim. Of the kind that I love, reminding me of a part of France I truly miss living where I live! Really nice!

[Ana]

Hope this isn't a stupid question, but why does she train a new pig each year? What happens to the prior years kiki - or dare I ask?

[Vanessa]

I love this...bravo. The pig is fabulous.

[Tammy]

Fascinating. I'm awaiting Part II.

[Shubho]

Edward Behr featured Marthe Delon and Kiki in his article on truffles in the last issue of the Art of Eating. Apparently the pigs grow too big within a year and that's why she changes them. Another nugget - she stores eggs and truffles side by side in a sealed container so that the truffle penetrates the eggshell in a day or two - the secret of a great truffle omelette.

[alber]

when is the winter truffle season in this region france?

[veron]

The first place I am going to go in Europe is Southwest France. I am in love with it just by reading the food in Paula Wolferts book. And I am obsessed with duck confit...so there!

[barbara]

Lucky you Pim. I've sent this post to my truffle growing friend Gareth in the South Island. He'll be green with envy I'm sure.

[Gareth]

No, not green. Just off-white.

Great post, Pim. I visited the Lion d'Or in December 05 - like you I was fascinated by the faces and baskets.

A note on brumale: it occurs naturally throughout much of Europe - even Britain - and it has a much wider soil/climate tolerance range than melanosporum. The problem, as you note, is that it has been spread by truffle nurseries, but it can also spread itself, especially in truffieres which are allowed to get overgrown and less than ideal for melanosporum.

I prefer dogs to pigs. Better company...

[carla]

Dearest Pim,
What a great article Pim! Thank you! I want to meet Madame Marthe Delon too! She is an oral-food-historian/teacher!

[Lucy Vanel]

I read your entry in full before looking at the photos, Pim. You created a beautifully evocative image with words and the photos are outstanding. Bravo.

[susan]

wow you always have the most amazing experiences, meeting such interesting people. great post and pictures!

[Cynthia]

Pim, can you bring over a truffle, and we'll teach Dali, our garden pig, how to hunt them? Or maybe we'd have better luck teaching her how to hunt the local morels!

[Iris]

Internet is great: I found the link to your blog on a blog from Yokohama - just to read this beautiful article about a typical french region and tradition - I love the photographs of Madame Delon et Kiki - and - living myself in the Languedoc, I imagine her accent (even Kikis accent, which will not be too far away from the grunting of the wild boars I can hear by night aroung the house under the chestnut trees and even in my wines...)
Thank you!

[Elatia Harris]

Just gorgeous! For Heaven's sake, continue it -- it's been days...

[Christine]

Wow. I am offically a fan! Of Kiki and Mme Delon's too! :)

[christell]

Kiki is really gorgeous !

[Gilli]

Have just discovered your blog Pim. Love the story about Madame Delon & Kiki.
I just want to be there. Thank you

[Farmer de Ville]

Well, I thank you for adding further impetus to the fire. This article may prove to be the final straw which leads me and my truffling companion here in Oregon to purchase our own pig.

There is talk of building a pen soon!

- Farmer