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Je n'aime pas les truffes | I don't like truffles #2

The interesting thing is: I don’t like to eat truffles - although I’ve heard some pigs do.


The hunter hunting an elephant or lion involves taking someone’s family member away. In this way, I can feel good about hunting for truffles… it does not involve taking someone’s mother or father or cousin or sister or aunt away forever. Not that truffles don’t have feelings too.


And, I of all beings would not want to disrespect anyone or anything, even a truffle.


I don’t feel bad about not liking truffles, because someone does. Frankly, they aren't all that tasty to me. I did have a nibble once. Whew! Pungent... strong smelling in a not so great way.


Apparently, not everyone feels this way. To make things even more perplexing, the truffles I hunt and find often accompany ham dishes. How unfortunate is that?




Even though I do not eat truffles, I do know a lot about them.


My knowing is not a knowledge learned in school, but something apparently born into me - like a child who can play amazing songs on the piano as a toddler. Or a person with the gift of painting masterpieces. My gift was smelling and knowing where to find the truffles hiding under crunchy leaves, near certain trees in the woods. And, I would somehow just sniff the ground and know where to find the best ones.


Truffles are my passion, and I would love for you to know something of this world in which I travel. But wait! Before we dig into the the world of truffles more, I will tell you about my childhood and youth. I will tell you where I am, at least for now.


I hope you will continue to join me as I share my life story. So I will begin with my birth…



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