A small farm with small animals produces a mighty harvest, writes James O'Rourke.
As I bounced around on the back seat of our shuttle bus, while our driver attempted to set the new speed record on the journey from the cruise ship Sea Princess docked in the port of Burnie, to our destination, I was struck by the similarity of our surroundings to regional New Zealand. Passing through several small townships nestled in rolling green farmland with historic shop fronts and weatherboard houses, we could have easily been in Picton, Te Awamutu, Dargaville or any number of small Kiwi towns. But we weren't, we were in the north of Tasmania and on the hunt for truffles.
After winding our way up the tree-lined drive we were greeted by two of the many four-legged residents of The Truffledore, Toby and Checken, the truffle dogs. The owner, Jennifer, also gave us a warm welcome and was kind enough to take time out of the never-ending list of daily tasks that make up farm living, to give us a guided and hugely in-depth tour of her livelihood.
At only 6.5ha and with 700 English oak trees, the main focus of the farm is truffles, French black ones to be precise. It isn't often that you put Tasmania and France in the same category but in this instance there is an exception.
Located at 40 degrees south, The Truffledore is directly opposite France on the globe and therefore in prime truffle-growing territory. So perfect is its location that Jennifer exports the majority of her product (fresh, not frozen) to France in their off-season and for a tidy sum.
