The smell of excrement has the chemical signature of ‘indole’ and it’s also present in jasmine. The fragrance of jasmine is ..how can I say this..I can only say it like this..borderline narcotic to me. I can never have enough. Poop..not so much.

Another interesting smell is that of truffle mushrooms. They sell for $2000-3600/lb. in the past, the French used female pigs to dig them out of the earth because it was intoxicating for them..it smelt like the scent of a horny male pig’s pheromones. But the pigs would gorge them before the truffle hunter can get to them. Now ..we use dogs. Terriers don’t care much for rutting male pigs.

However, the aroma of a ripe white truffle will have any gourmand worth his/her salt swooning. I remember saving enough money to buy a nugget of Italian white truffle. Trifola Alba[1] for what was an obscene amount of money considering that I had to save to buy it. I had it with fluffy omelette and saved it in a bowl of risotto rice to stretch it. My plan was to have a nice creamy white truffle fettuccine and then the perfumed risotto would also be a treat. I intended to stretch that little nugget as far as I could and hoped I would have enough for a grilled sandwich too.

I did my research and found that a bottle of sweet Hungarian Tokay[2] would suit my menu which included a foie pate and a potato galette with goose fat and garlic.

But I didn’t have enough money. I was living in expensive central London W1 at this time and working in a restaurant and attending culinary school. So I walked everywhere, lived on mcD fries and strawberry milkshakes to save enough for the Tokaji.

After about a week, I gather my supplies and come to my room that I rented only to find the door ajar. The landlady was standing outside and she was so mad. The cleaning woman had pulled out everything I ever owned and was under the bed.

She had come to clean and she thought there was a dead rodent in the room. The raw milk Camembert that had been ripening in the window sill as part of the menu was the culprit. I calmed her down and threw the offending cheese out.

I did have my dinner for one sans Camembert. And as a peace offering, I gave the bowl of perfumed risotto rice to my landlady with the remaining nub of truffle. We were friends again.

But what is so magical about truffles? It lingers inside your nostrils long after you have had your fill. I did..for almost a week and I can beckon it on demand now when I am feeling particularly nostalgic. Is it a brain signal that gets triggered? Is it some kind of hard wired smell code that just have to be uncovered because it’s of the earth. It feels so ‘ancient’ and ‘prehistoric’ as though this old fungus is some silent hidden part of your DNA. I don’t feel that way about all other mushrooms tho’..maybe it’s because it’s rare and expensive. Entirely psychological. Or maybe it’s personal because I created a memory and story around it.

I have no idea..but if you ever have had truffle..black or white..you’d know what I mean.

How does a truffle smell.. [...] The smell of good truffles has been historically hard to describe, with comparisons ranging from mold to sweet body odor to sulphurous garlic. The fact is, it isn't really the fungus itself that is all that tasty, but rather the gas it gives off, part of which is produced by the fungi themselves and part of which is produced by bacteria and microbes living within. One major component is the molecule androstenone, described as having an aroma somewhere between sandalwood, vanilla and urine. Androstenone is also produced by randy male pigs, which is why female pigs make such good truffle hunters.

Read More: https://www.mashed.com/59070/untold-truth-truffles/[..]

[1] https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_truffle

[2] https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tokaji