Not many invitations warrant clearing your calendar, but the chance to taste black truffles right here in Kenya is perhaps one that does.
These ‘diamonds of the kitchen,’ as they are sometimes called, are known to be among the world’s rarest and most expensive ingredients, capable of elevating even the simplest dish. So when Mandhari restaurant at Nairobi Serena Hotel extended an invitation to experience them firsthand, I was more than happy to accept.
Our dinner party was small and intimate, but anticipation hung thick in the air until the restaurant’s executive chef, Eshton Muthama, emerged carrying a plate on which rested a jet-black, knobbly sphere that was no bigger than a golf ball. It reminded me of a black-skinned avocado, only this was smaller.
Its aroma reminded me of an early morning walk through Karura Forest, when it is quiet and the dew still clings to the earth.
I had some questions. Where do truffles come from? How do they grow? And how do they get to Nairobi?
Flown in from Manjimup in Western Australia, the black truffle is a fungus that grows in a mutually beneficial relationship with the roots of oak and hazelnut trees. Black truffles can also be cultivated. But unlike typical mushrooms, truffles develop hidden beneath the soil and are available for only a short season each year. In Manjimup, that season is in July.
Once ripe, they are unearthed with the help of specially trained dogs, which sniff them out from above ground.
According to the dinner’s benefactor, who was generous with everything but his identity, the dogs are trained much like those used to detect drugs or explosives at airports. The black truffles we would be enjoying that evening, he added, were sniffed out by a golden Labrador named Millie.
Valuable as the truffles are (a kilo fetches about AUD 2,500 or Sh230,00), the dogs are never allowed to get too close to them, lest they devour thousands of dollars’ worth in a single bite. So once Millie had located the truffles, she was enticed away with a treat while the farmer lay flat on the ground and, using a small hand tool, carefully loosened the soil until the prized fungi emerged.
The entrée, which came in a rimmed soup plate, looked deceptively simple.
Dark greyish-brown in colour, the cream of woodland truffle soup presented demurely, topped with a paper-thin shaving of black truffle and an elegant drizzle of smoked truffle oil that caught the light. Accompanying it was a crisp crostini with ricotta and truffle lightly toasted onto its surface. I could smell its warm, earthy aroma even before the spoon reached my lips.
The first mouthful was rich, creamy, and beautifully balanced, layering the savoury flavours of woodland mushrooms with the truffle’s intoxicating perfume in a way that felt both luxurious and comforting.
By the time I looked up, my bowl had been scraped clean. I hadn’t even paused to taste the accompanying Chardonnay, whose rich, oaky notes, the sommelier explained, were chosen to complement the earthy depth of the truffles.
After such a strong opening, the second course had a lot to live up to, and it didn’t disappoint. Before us sat ribbons of tagliatelle crowned with delicate shavings of black truffle and a scattering of microgreens.
Chef Eshton offered us the option of a cheese sauce, which I gladly accepted, and thankfully so. It amplified the truffle without competing or overpowering it, allowing the ingredient we’d come to celebrate to remain firmly in the spotlight. This time, at least, I remembered to sip the Shiraz wine whose fruity and spicy notes proved an equally fitting partner for the dish.
Grilled lamb rack
The third course of the evening was a feast for the eyes before it was anything else. Colourful and artfully plated, the grilled lamb rack, served alongside a vibrant green garden pea purée, grilled portobello mushrooms, and a side of vegetables, was easily my highlight of the evening.
The lamb was tender and succulent, yielding effortlessly to the knife before melting in the mouth. The pea purée and grilled mushrooms more than held their own, but what tied the whole dish together was the chef’s generous drizzle of truffle jus, whose earthy richness elevated every element on the plate.
And after learning that so many commercially available truffle products rely on artificial flavourings, there was something especially satisfying about tasting a sauce that was made with the real thing.
The pan-seared salmon steak came next, resting in a bright yellow pool of truffle beurre blanc with charred fennel fondue and black olive crumb.
Another artistic presentation, it was almost a shame to dig into this dish, but any hesitation disappeared after the first bite. The moist, flaky salmon, drenched in the buttery sauce and enjoyed alongside the charred fennel, made for a deeply satisfying meal with a delicate balance of savoury richness and gentle sweetness.
But our generous benefactor still had an ace up his sleeve. As the sommelier emerged carrying the final wine pairing, the two exchanged a mischievous smile that immediately piqued our curiosity.
It was a sweet red blend of Grenache and Merlot, chosen to accompany the dessert. And while it did that well, it wasn’t the pairing that caught our attention. It was the name on the bottle: Sugar Daddy. The table erupted in laughter, making it a light-hearted ending to an evening defined by remarkable food and equally good company.
With Nairobi Serena Hotel preparing to unveil its Mediterranean restaurant, the black truffle dinner felt like more than a one-off experience. It felt like a preview of a kitchen eager to expand its culinary horizons.