The "Cavage" of the truffle

A dog specialised in the cavage of the truffle

The Rabassiers

The black truffle of the Tricastin is hunted in the canton's communes bearing enchanting names :
"La Baume de Transit, Bouchet, Clansayes, La garde Adhèmar, Montségur sur Lauzon, Rochegude, Saint Paul Trois châteaux, Saint Restitut, Solérieux, Suze la Rousse, Tulette, Richerenches..."

The rabassier, accompanied by his faithful companion the dog, surveys the truffle field while keeping a watchful eye on the animal. The dog, nose to the ground, scents the earth searching for a the smell that will indicate the presence of the tuber. Depending on his habits, it is content to mark the earth with his paw or start digging until he unearths the truffle. The rabassier then steps in to make sure his work companion does not want to eat it. Once the truffle is gathered, the animal will have his reward, a cheese treat.

A dog specialised in the cavage of the truffle of Tricastin

Truffle market

The "cavage" of the truffle is very difficult. There is no mechanical means for detecting it. To discover it, sometimes lying several inches under the earth, the eye is not enough, because nothing or nearly nothing is visible to reveal its presence. The dog, more active, more docile and also more gifted than his predecessor the pig, only hunts the treasure for his master.

Here follows a very Provençal account, from the excellent book by Jean PAGNOL, which well describes the "cavage" of the truffle.

"Lou Rabassaïre", his "Picouloun" in hand, his gamebag around his waist, in a small, blue canvas bag, a small piece of bread and cheese, sets off on the path to his truffle field. His dog goes before him. It's marvellous to see, nose to the ground to better perceive the subterranean odours. Facing the wind, he methodically explores. He comes and goes, he turns, sniffs and suddenly, the wiggling of his tail testifying to his joy, with a nimble blow of his paw he "marks" the site of the truffle then scratches a bit at the earth, dispersing the soil. But the truffle doesn't come at first, he replunges his muzzle in the hole hollowed out by the tool, the sniffing powdering his nose with earth. The man continues, but the truffle still doesn't appear. Another try with the nose... Finally, there it is. The "rabassaïre" delicately roots it out by hand. His eyes shine with joy, the dog awaits his reward, a piece of bread drawn from the sack on which he throws himself with passion. Hunger... Greed or simply habit ? Straightaway swallowed, he continues his course, indefatigable and fast.