Ugo Alciati

What happens when you're born into the family behind one of the most celebrated restaurants of its generation, in a place devoted to quality and steeped in gastronomic culture like the Langhe? You might become Ugo Alciati—or perhaps not. One could speak of destiny or osmosis. What is certain is that Guido, his restaurant, housed since 2013 in the Villa Reale of the Tenuta Fontanafredda estate, has continued to chart a path marked by concepts that have always made it a benchmark for the region's gastronomy: the celebration of high-quality raw materials; and the appreciation of terroir, the land and those who cultivate it. Ugo Alciati's cuisine is traditional but not conventional, contemporary but not modernist, aiming to transform the dining experience into a moment of dialogue and learning as well as pleasure. It is, in every way, a Piedmontese cuisine.

It's no coincidence that Ugo Alciati is also a profound connoisseur and passionate lover of truffles, a product he approaches with the same curiosity and rigour that accompany every aspect of his work as a chef, restaurateur, and interpreter of gastronomic heritage. A heritage—that of the Langhe—that is deeply rooted in a rural culture made of earth, relationships, and cars that smell of truffles.

We sat with him under the shade of the centuries-old cedars in front of his restaurant's entrance to hear about his relationship with this precious tuber, so emblematic for those born and working in these hills; how to recognise a product from the area; and his favourite ways to prepare it for himself and his loyal clientele. Finally, we asked him about his new chocolate and hazelnut creation, the Tartufo Regale, and how, once again, the raw material (black truffle) was his source of inspiration.

Tell us how your relationship with truffles began: what is your first memory associated with this product?

Truffles are certainly a product I've been connected to since childhood, because growing up in these areas, you inevitably become involved, even without meaning to. A memory, then… yes, the early 70s, I was 4-5 years old. There were three of us siblings, and my mother, who worked in the kitchen [at the family restaurant, Guido], would try to offload us onto relatives or our father for a moment's peace. My father spent all day out sourcing wines, truffles, and top-quality products. So, I often went with him to collect truffles from the various hunters, and I remember—or perhaps my memory is distorted, as memories sometimes overlap—I mean, I recall such an intense truffle aroma that even when the truffles were long gone, months after the season had ended, you'd get into the car and still smell nothing but truffles. So, I can say I've had this aroma in my mind forever. It's remained a great passion… I even have truffles in my garden, so more connected than that, I can't be!

How is truffle used in your restaurant? Do you find it tied in any way to this memory, to this family influence?

Considering that we are a 100% traditional Piedmontese restaurant, we never stray far from the ingredients of this land and the people who produce them—we have a very close bond with all our suppliers, from truffle hunters to our vegetable growers. One who comes to mind, especially when speaking of truffles, is our producer of "cardo gobbo" from Nizza Monferrato—a Slow Food Presidium and, I believe, the best cardoon in existence because it's produced using all the traditional techniques, buried underground rather than covered with plastic. The "cardo gobbo" is one of the vegetables used in "bagna cauda," for which it is famous, but it also originated as an ingredient paired with truffle. It belongs to the artichoke family, and in the most classic, purest Piedmontese tradition, it was served with fondue. And that's how we still prepare it here at Guido: for 60 years, we've made cardoon with fondue. About fifteen years ago, wanting to work with local ingredients innovatively, we created a dish with cardoon, pears, and truffle, with an anchovy-based seasoning. Cardoon and pear provide a sweet and savoury base, and the truffle was preserved in oil with anchovy to enhance the anchovies' notes. During truffle season, we can't take it off the menu—our guests specifically request it. It's become part of our tradition, a cult dish, really.

How can you recognise a truffle from the Langhe? I've heard you're exceptionally skilled at identifying them.

No, not exceptionally skilled—it's just that we've seen tons of them over the years, so…

From that memory of the truffle-scented car until now, so many years must have passed! But, knowing you have a keen sense for identifying local truffles, what qualities make them stand out compared to others?

Let me start with a general observation. It's not that good truffles only come from here while others are poor quality. The fact is, this area was probably the first to properly value this product. In harder times, it wasn't even considered so special—just another tuber, and some people disliked it because it smelled too strong! There has definitely been significant evolution over the last 50 years, driven by communication. I remember in the '70s and '80s, when I was a young man starting to work with my family, truffles were perhaps only desired in New York. Now, they're wanted even in the Bahamas! So, with global demand, sourcing must focus on areas where truffles grow. These areas are very diverse, both in Italy and abroad. From experience, we see that terroir makes a difference in the product's quality, just as it does for Nebbiolo and Barolo wines.

How do we recognise them? The first clue is the overall impression: you open a package and the aroma immediately tells you whether it's a product from the Langhe or not. I don't know why, perhaps it's a matter of soil and climate, but an Umbrian truffle, for example, though a very good truffle, has a completely different aroma from a Piedmontese one. Then comes the visual phase: you look at the colour, the type of soil residue, the shape… For example, it's extremely rare to find a Piedmontese truffle that is round, smooth, and perfectly shaped. Why? Because the soil here is tough, difficult. If you plant carrots here, they won't grow straight—they'll be all twisted! And finally, often you have to taste it, because only when tasting can you be 100% certain—no mistakes—whether it's a truffle from the Langhe. The flavour has an unmistakable intensity and complexity.

Returning to cooking, how do you prepare truffle for yourself?

I mostly prefer truffle—though I'm not against it in other forms—on hot dishes. I don't deny its deliciousness on raw meat, for example, but the ultimate enhancement comes with heat because it releases all its aromas and flavours. Risotto, in particular, being a very neutral element, is perfect for showcasing truffle. There's one dish I must have at least once a year: when I decide the truffles are at their peak—when the alignment of the moon and planets is right [he laughs, ndr], typically mid-to-late November—I make myself a Parmesan risotto with a brown stock base and freshly grated truffle on top. It's marvellous.

We know your passion for truffles goes beyond the product itself and has inspired one of your projects, the Tartufo Regale. Could you tell us about it?

Yes, here at the restaurant, we are so closely connected to this territory and to truffles that one day we asked ourselves: why does everyone call chocolate truffles those little balls or cubes of chocolate with hazelnuts? It's fine to link the territory with hazelnuts and chocolate, but in terms of shape, there was really nothing reminiscent of a truffle. So we thought, why don't we create a chocolate truffle that actually resembles a real truffle? So, we started working on the shape and colour, and then we got a bit carried away. In the end, after countless modifications, experiments, and adjustments, we created a truffle we called Tartufo Regale, a black truffle so resemblant the original product that even we can't tell them apart anymore—we have to sniff them. Our major work in recent years has been making moulds from real truffles (we've made 170 of them); from these, after 32 manual steps, we produce our Tartufi Regali. We named them this way because we are located in the estate of King Vittorio Emanuele II, so it's a place with a truly royal history.

And how is it used? Is it eaten as it is? Is it grated like a truffle?

What makes the Tartufo Regale special, however, is that the inside also resembles a black truffle. We've recreated the internal texture with the help of hazelnuts, which are neither chopped nor crumbled but sliced by hand with a truffle slicer. This creates tiny slivers which, when layered in the filling—a gianduja made with hazelnut paste and milk chocolate—recreate the texture of a truffle. The whole piece is coated in a kind of case made from dark chocolate using Criollo cocoa, the rarest cocoa in the world. This perfectly mimics the colour and external texture of a real truffle. And that’s it! It can be eaten as is, like a chocolate praline.