The Fascinating History of Truffles: Myths and Modern Fascination with This Luxurious Delicacy

These days, if you read about truffles and their early history, you might come away with the impression that, from Roman times and earlier, they were always considered the most coveted of culinary ingredients, consumed only by kings, emperors, and the social elite. But is that actually the case? Last year, during my trip to Italy, I delved deep into the culinary history of the region, and I discovered some surprising truths. For example, did you know the story of Marco Polo bringing pasta back from the East is a myth? Even more striking for me was learning that the notion of Italian cuisine being rooted in peasant traditions is also a misconception.

In reality, it has stronger ties to Mussolini’s regime and the middle-class women of the 1940s, 50s and 60s. And here’s the kicker—truffles aren’t immune to this myth-making either. While they were undoubtedly prised by elites in Persia, Rome, and Athens, the truffles they cherished weren’t the fragrant delicacies we know today. They came from north African deserts, often gritty with sand, and lacked the aroma we associate with Northern Italy’s mountainous truffles.

So, what’s really going on? In this post, we’ll peel back the layers of truffle mythology and explore how marketing and myth making in the 2000s have shaped the narrative around this luxurious ingredient.

Greek and Roman truffle creation myth

Revisioning Truffle History

Before we dive into truffle history, let’s define a term that always sparks a bit of controversy: Revisionist History. To illustrate, let’s start with a classic example that’s probably familiar, all be it a bit international. For years, American schoolchildren were taught a heartwarming tale about their first president and and a cherry tree. Supposedly, young George chopped one down, then famously admitted, “I cannot tell a lie” when confronted about it by his father. A lovely story, right? The only problem is—it’s totally made up. When archaeologists uncovered Washington's boyhood home in 2008, they found no trace of any cherry trees. Turns out, this charming little tale was likely the brainchild of early biographer Mason Locke Weems, who wanted to craft a heroic image of Washington.

The truth about history is that it is always being revised and that it cannot help but suffer from the strong cultural forces at play in the time that it is being written. Eventually, every now and then, with different eyes, and new facts we will often go back, as did the archaeologists in the story above, and reveal a bit more of the truth of things. And so, the same goes for the humble truffle, around which a gargantuan industry is now established.

And so when you do look at the material that is being produced around truffle, it does seem that we're smack bang in the middle of a full-blown truffle myth-making frenzy these days.

A quick internet search will lead you to passages that go something like:

"Truffles have been revered for centuries, dating all the way back to the 4th century BCE, when Greek philosopher Theophrastus wrote about them. According to him, these mysterious fungi were nature’s miracle, popping up after thunderstorms like something straight out of Greek mythology. The Greeks and Romans, never ones to shy away from luxury, treated truffles as the food of the gods—mystical, luxurious, and, of course, endowed with magical properties. Some believed lightning strikes created truffles, imbuing them with aphrodisiac and medicinal powers. A little thunder, a little magic, and voilà—your dinner just got a whole lot more interesting."

Okay, I couldn’t resist adding a little ‘flair’ there, but you get the gist.

Now, here’s the thing: when you actually dig into the history of truffles, it’s all there, clear as day. In fact, if you consult a source like Wikipedia, it’ll tell you outright that the Romans and Greeks didn’t have access to the truffles we know and love today—the prized Northern Italian ones that can go for up to $14,000 per kilo during peak season. By contrast, north African desert truffles, which were in circulation back then, even now, are lucky to fetch $20–$30 per kilo. So why, then, this grand love affair with truffles in ancient Rome and Greece when they were so underwhelming?

Did the Romans and Greeks Actually Love Truffles?

The short answer: yes, but it's complicated. To understand how the Romans and Greeks viewed truffles (the northern African desert variety), we need to consider how they saw food in general. The truth is, their reasons for “loving” truffles were vastly different from the way we adore them today.

For starters, as mentioned in Zachary Nowak book Truffle: A Global History, they didn’t love truffles for their aroma, flavor, or ability to elevate a dish. No, in the ancient world, being a sedentary farmer was the epitome of civilization Nowak writes. And civilization, by their standards, meant rejecting the food culture of those who didn’t grow their own crops. Nomadic hunter-gatherers, pastoralists, and people living off wild food were viewed with suspicion—or outright disdain. Edible wild foods like truffles, were considered, at best, ambivalent fare and, at worst, a symbol of barbarism.

For the ancient Greeks, civilization was defined by artifice, not nature. They valued the transformation of raw materials into something crafted—something cultivated. Bread is a perfect example. To the Greeks, bread was the ultimate symbol of civilization; wheat had to be sown, harvested, and painstakingly worked into bread. Homer even referred to “bread-eaters” as a metaphor for civilized men, while those relying on root vegetables or wild plants were seen as impoverished, backward, and even less human.

The Romans took this snobbery a step further. Their food geography was strictly divided into three zones: civitas (the city, where proper food was cultivated and refined), ager (the agricultural fields, where peasants grew the Mediterranean triad—wheat, grapes, and olives), and saltus (the wilderness). The saltus was the domain of animals and “barbarians” who hunted game, fished, and gathered wild foods like truffles. In Roman ideology, this was the other—something to be feared, avoided, and looked down upon.

Of course, the Romans were practical, and Roman peasants often supplemented their diets with food they found in the saltus, including truffles. Some of these wild foods even made it to the tables of the elite. But before they could be served at lavish banquets, they had to be ennobled—spiced up to suit the refined tastes of the wealthy. Spices were an extravagant luxury in ancient Rome, and wealthy Romans often displayed their opulence by serving rare and exotic dishes, like flamingo tongues or the womb of a spayed sow. Adding spices to “common” foods like truffles was one way to make a humble dish fit for the emperor.

But this was about more than just taste. To understand why truffles were so heavily spiced, we need to look at Roman theories of health. Roman culinary practices were deeply influenced by the theory of the humours, which proposed that digestion was a form of internal “cooking.” According to this theory, the body was made up of four liquids—blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile—and maintaining balance among them was crucial for good health. Too much of one kind of food could throw the body’s balance off and cause illness.

Each of the four humours was associated with a specific quality: blood was hot and dry, black bile was cold and moist, and so on. The Romans believed that consuming the right combination of foods with matching qualities could restore balance. Truffles, for example, were considered “wet” foods. In Roman cuisine, they would often be paired with “dry” or “hot” ingredients, like salted meats, to bring harmony to the body’s internal state.

So, for the elite of the Roman Empire, truffles weren’t just a culinary curiosity—they were part of a carefully constructed health regimen, as well as a display of wealth and status when pared with spices like pepper.

Modern Fascination with the Truffle

I am going to skip over the centuries between Greek and Roman times when it comes to truffle history—not because it’s not fascinating, but because it falls outside the scope of this post. Instead, let's fast-forward to modern times, where the humble truffle underwent a significant transformation from a wild, somewhat misunderstood delicacy to the gastronomic jewel it is today. The truffle's rise to culinary fame is linked to a number of cultural and historical forces, but perhaps none were as influential as the surge of interest in French and Italian cuisine starting in the mid-1800s.

In Italy, as John Dickie highlights in his book Delizia, one of the catalysts for the Italian cuisine’s modern popularity was the work of Pellegrino Artusi, a culinary pioneer who put out a call for people to send him their favorite family recipes. The response was overwhelming, especially from Italian women, and Artusi quickly became a household name. His 1891 cookbook La scienza in cucina e l'arte di mangiar bene (The Science of Cooking and the Art of Eating Well) is often credited with formalising a truly national Italian cuisine for the first time. And yes, you guessed it—there was a truffle recipe or two included.

But Artusi wasn’t the only force shaping Italian food culture and the notion that it is driven by access to fresh quality produce. Benito Mussolini, who championed the image of the hardworking farmer as the backbone of Italy, also played a part in elevating Italian cuisine. Mussolini was frequently photographed in the fields, working alongside farmers and symbolizing the importance of agriculture to the nation. His view of the Italian woman and her broad wheat thrashing hips and work in the kitchen nourishing the family set in play another spoke in the wheel that is now modern Italian cuisine. Dickie in his book writes In the early 1930s Fascism moved to reconstruct the whole of Italian society in its image with totalitarian organisations like the Rural Housewives. But, ironically, it was primarily women from the urban bourgeoisie who carried forward the regime’s drive for more spartan eating habits. The new Italian middle classes of the Fascist years were eager to learn about food, and it was a new generation of female cookery writers who taught them, dominating the expanding market for cookbooks. Typically, these writers were upper-middle class, and their readership was placed several rungs below them on the social ladder. In tones that were often condescending, Italy’s grandes dames were teaching the ladies of the petite bourgeoisie about the virtues of frugal housekeeping. Over and over again, Dickie talks about the role Italian women have played in the development of Italian cuisine largely tied to how they adapted to their circumstances thought out the different eras of the 1900s.

Another strong influence on the Italian cooking was the large array of women's magazines again written and purchased by middle class women living in the large post war cites which shared the bounties of regional cooking with urban audiences. These magazines were Italy's answer to Women's Day or New Idea, but with a distinct Italian twist: a celebration of the rich, rustic foods that came from the countryside and, crucially, the farmers who cultivated them. What made it all possible? The affluence of Italy’s middle class particularly after the war. Living in bustling urban centers, gave them both the means and the access to the finest produce that the Italian countryside had to offer. Truffles, with their unique aroma and elusive nature, were all part of this and now had become firmly planted as a symbol of luxury in Italian kitchens, especially in the northern mountain regions, where they thrived.

So, the Italian middle class—and the women who helped promote it—did not just preserve traditional recipes; they breathed new life into them, taking ingredients like the truffle and elevating them to their current status as symbols of luxury and refinement. They laid the groundwork for a culinary tradition that has since become the envy of the world. And in many ways, it was these same women who, armed with access to Italy’s bountiful produce, helped transform the truffle from a rustic, wild food into the gastronomic treasure it is today.

Last words

And there you have it, a slice of truffle history with a measure of myth busting thrown in. If you liked this post then share the love with someone you think might like it. Next week we will turn to a topic update. We will share more about the influence trees have on shaping the aroma and flavor of truffle.

Reading further

Delizia, John Dickie, Hodder and Stoughton, 2023.

Truffle: A Global History, Zachary Nowak, Reaktion Books, 2015

Wikipedia article on truffle: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Truffle (accessed 02/07/25)