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The black truffle grows hidden underground for months, while the cold, the humidity, and patience do their work. But when the season arrives -from December to March- everything comes alive around us: the dogs sharpen their sense of smell, our hands grow tougher, and the entire estate falls into a rhythm that only those of us who live this up close can understand. Every day of the season is a choreography between people, dogs, mud, baskets, and brushes. Today we want to tell you what one of those days is like, from sunrise until, many hours later, we return home with muddy boots:

8:00 a.m.
The day starts in a corner of this Mediterranean area where time is set by the land and the scenting of our dogs. At this hour, the ground is still cool, the sky begins to open, and the humidity seeps into our bones.

There are several people on the team, and each one knows perfectly what to do. While some prepare to go out into the fields with the dogs, others are already organizing the operations center: our office. Today is Monday, and that means one thing: an intense day of orders. During the weekend, orders tend to accumulate, since that is when the market price of black truffle (Tuber melanosporum) is set, and everything must be prepared with precision.

8:15 a.m.
Silver and Nala, our truffle-hunting dogs, are the heart of the search, our silent allies who know exactly where a black truffle is hidden. We walk quietly along the rows of oaks, attentive to every gesture and every trace the dogs detect under the soil.

10:00 a.m.
We stop for lunch. Bread with cured meats and coffee taste twice as good when enjoyed outdoors and with boots covered in mud. Despite the fatigue, this work has something addictive. And when the truffle appears, round, rough, perfect, everything makes sense.

11:00 a.m. – 2:00 p.m.
We continue in the field or begin rotating to cleaning work. In our washing area, the water starts to flow, and all that can be heard is the gentle scraping of the brushes. Each truffle is washed by hand, one by one, with patience and care. It is a slow process, but necessary. We do not use machines because each piece has its own timing and character, and to avoid any “injury” that could damage the truffle.

2:30 p.m.
We should stop to have lunch… but many times we don’t even remember. The pace does not slow down, especially not on a Monday.

4:00 – 8:00 p.m.
The afternoon slips away among labels, insulated boxes, dry ice, and paperwork. We keep trying to finish the last shipments to send them out. Some will leave tonight by express courier.

8:00 p.m.
We say the day ends at eight, but no one really believes it. There is always something left to do: a final check, a last-minute order, a truffle we want to inspect again.

It is not easy. It is not fast. And it is certainly not industrial. But it is our way of life, and we believe in it deeply. In respect for the product, the land, and those who will enjoy it on their plate. Behind every truffle, there are many hands, many steps, and a story that begins long before it reaches your kitchen.