I don’t remember the circumstances but I do remember Shop Girl with her love of all things French saying something that got Best Boy into his best imitation of her…repeating the phrase in such a way that it had us all howling. Le petit cochon…le petit cochon…the little pig.
You do know, don’t you that this is the time of year for truffle hunting? In Spain, France and Italy, the famed Black Truffle is hunted with pig or dog, men and baskets…trudging around forest underbrush seeking out the famed lumps.
After a ten day stretch of one storm after another, we had been officially blasted. The snow was so deep in the back yard that the dog – not some tiny little ragamuffin- but one bred of mountains and cold and lots of white stuff – could NOT seem to figure out how to navigate the back yard.
A few days into the pile up, carved in the snow, was a circular path…and she would only stay on her path. All I could think about at this time of year in the brutal north winter, was all the treasures were being left for me to discover come Spring.
But alas, I was granted a reprieve…and we had a day of 50º weather followed by lots of rain that melted the accumulated drifts and gave me a chance to do some “truffle hunting” of my own.
It was a bountiful harvest to say the least. Now if I could only find a market that would pay me the going rate of $130-$380 a pound. Surely I would have fetched $4000 on one good hunt! Bella is a petit cochon that produces instead of pursues.
1eyedmonkee 