Joan Barril

1996

The truffle is, in all probability, the most mysterious of all the different kinds of food. Bread of dwarfs and elves, it grows outside of human reach, falling prey instead to the exceptional sense of smell of dogs and pigs. This may be the reason why so much has been written in such depth on the subject of this tuber. Wafer-thin slices of truffle comprise the shadow that brings light to any dish.

This root, that grows under the ground, is somehow unconquerable. By that I mean that it does not allow other flavours in the kitchen to overpower it. The truffle is born low down, but as soon as it hits the pan, it takes charge and imposes its own will. As a result, the freedom with which it is used in the kitchen should be limited, ensuring that it does not overwhelm the other natural flavours, whilst still allowing it to exercise its innate desire to shine forth. In other words: the role of the truffle is only appreciated in coalition governments, where the little man is essential to the success of the big guy.

Roig Robí has invited the truffle into its kitchen for the whole month of February. The restaurant’s owner, Mercè, is convinced that, both in real life as well as in the kitchen, a good balance is essential to the proper enjoyment of extremes. This month, the presence of this fascinating food, the truffle, will allow us to savour the excitement of culinary symmetry.

But only during February. In March we shall probably have to try something else. Something new or something renewed. Who knows.