Buried Treasure: Uncovering Virginia’s Newest Cash Crop
WORDS & PHOTOS | Edible Blue Ridge
When someone says the word “orchard,” visions of trees laden with apples, pears or peaches invariably come to mind. Perhaps you think of cherries or plums, or maybe a more esoteric fruit such as persimmon or quince. But tucked away on a gently sloping 6-acre parcel in Rixeyville, you won’t see any trees heavy with fruit; instead, Virginia’s latest cash crop is hidden in the soil.
“We’ve had people come down from New York, we’ve had people come up from Florida. Last season we filled up so fast, we had a waitlist of 90 people,” Olivia Taylor, co-owner of Virginia Truffles LLC, a truffle orchard, tells me on a warm fall day.
If you didn’t know truffles could be found in Virginia, you aren’t alone. Commercial truffle production is still in its infancy in many parts of the country (in 2007, Tennessee was the first state to successfully cultivate truffles) and there are only a handful of producers in Virginia. Of those local producers, only two or three are at the stage where they can sell at a commercial level. However, truffle cultivation is gaining a steady following, enough that there is now an annual Virginia Truffle Festival and truffle hunts draw visitors from across the country.
Virginia Truffles LLC is currently the largest producer of truffles in Virginia and a champion for growers across the U.S. It all started when Taylor’s parents, Pat and John Martin, were searching for a retirement venture. They became enthralled with truffle cultivation and consulted with experts in Australia and Europe. Their original business model was a truffle nursery, selling tree seedlings inoculated with the Pèrigord truffle fungus, Tuber melanosporum, often referred to as the “black diamond” of truffles both for its value and flavor. At the same time they started the nursery, the Martins also planted a one-acre plot with inoculated oak trees as a proof of concept plan.
“From the get-go that was the variety because there has been a lot of success with cultivation. Truffles are a fickle species as far as there are some species that are easier to cultivate,” says Taylor. “We’d love to do the Italian white truffle but there’s been no luck with the exception of a couple farms in France that have ever had any success cultivating them.”
Taylor and her parents were looking to source to mid-Atlantic growers, particularly those in North Carolina and Virginia. “There are a lot of farmers — particularly in North Carolina — that were originally tobacco farmers and because tobacco is sort of, you know, passé at this point … they were looking for alternative crops,” says Taylor.
So, what is a truffle and why are truffle orchards on the rise? A truffle, in short, is the fruiting body of a fungus. The truffle fungus grows beneath the earth, forming a symbiotic relationship with a tree (the species of tree varies from oaks, to hazelnuts, to pines, depending on species of truffle); the fungus lives on the roots of the tree, taking up nutrients for it and, in turn, the tree feeds the fungus sugars produced through photosynthesis.
Much like there are different types of mushrooms, there are different types of truffle, all with their own unique umami flavor. Traditionally associated with Michelin-starred restaurants, truffles are found on tasting menus from December through March (the typical truffle season), often shaved over decadent dishes such as risotto, duck, or even ice cream. But in recent years, truffle-infused ingredients have made their way to commodity items as well, such as popcorn, potato chips and cheese.
Over time, Virginia Truffles LLC has evolved away from the nursery aspect to a true truffle orchard, selling truffles to local restaurants and the public, holding truffle hunts during the season, and training truffle-hunting dogs. Many truffle growers and hunters spend upwards of $6,000 on a truffle hunting canine. Certain breeds, such as Logotto Romagnolos, have bloodlines that could match a horse slated to win the Triple Crown. Taylor, however, looks a little closer to home when she brings on a new dog to train.
“They’re all rescues. I don’t look for a specific breed; I look for this drive to dig. They just have to be really persistent, high-energy and be really food-driven, and usually that works pretty well … I don’t sell dogs. I’m not in that business; these are our family as well,” Taylor says, as the dogs bark in the distance. “I know growers here in the states that have flown over to Italy, to Croatia, to pick up puppies, and you know, everybody is different, everybody operates their orchards differently, but there are a lot of dogs here that need homes.”
Taylor, whose background is in environmental science and livestock management, started training truffle dogs by practicing with her former in-laws’ dog who needed a job. She soaked tennis balls in truffle oil and taught the labrador to retrieve them. After the dog knew to respond to the truffle-scented balls, Taylor brought the dog to a woman in Luray who trains scent dogs for U.S. customs. Taylor has since trained five truffle dogs. Currently, Nadine, a grizzled hound dog, is her full-time truffle hunter, while Pozzi and Harley are still in training.
As we stroll through the orchard, I notice trees of varying size and species. Taylor — who also consults for new orchards— encourages growers to plant a variety of trees. One reason there are only a few producing truffle orchards in Virginia is because others monocropped their orchards, planting just one species of tree, the Eastern filbert (hazelnut). The orchards were then completely wiped out by the Eastern filbert blight. Taylor has planted four types of oak, and a few filberts, to lessen the risk of disease. This makes sense, as a truffle orchard is the definition of a long-term investment. Most truffle orchards in the mid-Atlantic only start producing truffles between six to eight years of age, and won’t reach commercial production levels until year fifteen.
“It was eight years for us. We had friends in from North Carolina and Australia. It was late February — late for the season, and all of a sudden Nadine almost pulled my arm out of socket. When there’s a truffle there you can smell it, the soil smells really strong, so I was like, OH MY GOD!!! Our friend was videotaping it and my mom gets the truffle and my stepdad, he pops the champagne. It was the best feeling ever.”
Taylor points out a circle of earth around a Japanese oak that is clear of grass. “That’s the truffle fungus doing that, they call it a brûlè — burn in French — there are some more pronounced ones up here,” she says as we walk up the slope of the orchard. “The French used to think it was a burn but it’s not; the truffle fungus produces an herbicidal chemical that pushes back the grass to eliminate competitive fungus.”
Two geese, Lucrezia and Lutetia, come up behind us, making their presence known with assertive honks. Taylor keeps ducks, geese, chickens and sheep, and they all contribute to the wellness of the orchard. In the spring, after truffle season has passed, the sheep graze the orchard, keeping the grass and the weeds in check and providing manure, while the fowl help with insect control. A stream flows quietly through the bottom of the property and Taylor lets native species flourish, encouraging birds to frequent the area. “The idea is to have a lot of biodiversity, to keep the environment healthy,” explains Taylor.
We spot a few breaching truffles, pushing out from the earth before fully ripe. Taylor points out their darker, veined skin to me as she carefully places earth back over them. In another area, an animal has been clearly digging at a breaching truffle. Raccoons and groundhogs are frequent pests, and Taylor employs someone to trap and transport the animals far from the orchard’s vicinity.
Another problem truffle growers face is competition amongst the truffles themselves. Truffles require two mating partners in order to reproduce, but often one will outcompete the other, halting growth. To remediate this, Taylor grinds up small truffle pieces, adding them to water to create a slurry, which she sprays near trees that haven’t produced in a season, thus encouraging new mating and growth.
Taylor doesn’t use foliar sprays or amend the soil, with the exception of adding lime. Virginia soils often have a pH of around 6, while the fungus thrives in soils with a pH of 8. Taylor adds lime to the soil, which “sweetens” it. Certain species of fungus cannot thrive under these new soil conditions, and so, Tuber melanosporum takes their place. With the amended soil, growers in Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee have discovered the emergence of a native Appalachian truffle, smaller in appearance than the Périgord most growers cultivate.
Knobby, scrunched and deeply veined, a truffle doesn’t look like much at first, but the flavor is unlike anything else. Earthy, pungent, with a hint of sweetness (think dark chocolate) if you’re tasting the Pèrigord variety, it’s easy to see why this strange “fruit” is coveted by chefs across the world. Once only a foraged food, cultivation has seen truffles become more accessible to at-home cooks. Between the months of December and March Virginia Truffles holds truffle hunts on weekends, welcoming guests to hunt the truffles alongside Nadine and then enjoy a truffle-centric meal over an open fire. Truffles are also available to purchase in person or online, and a few restaurants (Three Blacksmiths, Early Mountain Vineyards, The Inn at Little Washington) in the area feature truffles on their menus. \
Taylor suggests storing truffles in a jar with eggs. The porous shells allow the eggs to absorb the truffle flavor and the eggs provide enough moisture to keep the truffle from drying out and losing its pungency. (Rice, which is often used in restaurants to store truffles in, is too dry an environment for a truffle to be stored in for more than a day or two.) The truffley eggs make for a delightful soft scramble and are a favorite of Taylor and her family.
As we sniff a jar containing truffles and eggs, I tell Taylor it seems as if she loves the field she’s found herself in. “Oh, I do. It’s fascinating on a scientific level; I love the dynamic the fungus has with the environment, how the entire environment plays a role in your product, but also how that product affects your trees; for me it’s really interesting. I’ve always loved to farm and I love the concept of a biodynamic environment where everything is working together.”
With truffle cultivation still being in its infancy, it means Taylor knows most of the community, trading tips and advice with growers in Australia, Oregon, France and even New Jersey. “The truffle world is small and large at the same time, you end up meeting everyone, eventually,” Taylor says. Asked if she worries about competition her response is immediate and emphatic: “The more people producing truffles, the more the industry is going to expand, because right now, we’re so tiny, no one is paying attention to us. There’s no grant money, there’s no funding for research, there’s no funding for organizations to help growers. All of the organizations — whether regional or national — are self-funded and that, that’s difficult.”
There’s room to grow in this industry, especially in Virginia. Former tobacco farmers might start truffle orchards, and this is a market ripe for agritourism, which benefits not only one farm but the businesses that surround it and the community at large. This is a crop that can be explored, celebrated and expanded upon … Virginia Truffle kettle corn, anyone?
This article first appeared in our 2022 Winter Issue, Celebrate.