White truffles from Alba and red wine from Barolo are not usually part of the frugal traveler’s diet. After all, shavings of the former or a bottle of the latter can each easily cost over $100 in a New York restaurant. But what if you go straight to the source, the heart of the Piedmont region in northwestern Italy, for these indulgent luxuries? As I discovered during a recent weekend in the area, it’s possible to sample these superlative specialties — as well as excellent art, food and other charms — on a frugal budget.
On a sunny Friday afternoon in early November, my husband, Dave, and I arrived in Alba after a two-and-a-half hour drive from our home in Liguria. (From Milan, Alba is an hour and a half by car.) The charming town is perhaps best known as the site of the long-running Fiera Internazionale del Tartufo Bianco d’Alba, or International Alba White Truffle Fair, held every autumn in celebration of the area’s prized tubers; this year’s festival, which ran from Oct. 11 to Nov. 16, was the 84th edition. Even during this popular period, we managed to find an apartment in the compact historical center for 90 euros, $114 at $1.26 to the euro. The spacious pied-à-terre would have been ideal for a longer stay, but we had only one night in town and immediately headed out.
Our apartment’s owner had declared Gelateria La Romana as having the best gelato he’d ever tasted (“I’m addicted!”) – even though it’s a chain – so we made it our first stop. The creamy flavors I sampled, pesto di pistacchio and pesto di nocciola (hazelnut), put the more famous Grom chain, based in nearby Turin, to shame. Fortified, we then sought out two free art exhibitions being held in conjunction with the truffle fair. Coro della Maddalena, a Baroque choir chamber with pretty trompe l’oeil frescoes, was the site of contemporary paintings by the German artist Anselm Kiefer. The exhibit, titled “Der Rhein” (“The Rhine”), consisted of eight large canvases depicting stark black-and-white river scenes. A few blocks away, another striking juxtaposition of old and new was on display inside the Chiesa di San Domenico: Amid the church’s black-and-white checked columns was an exhibit of photographs from the nonagenarian Alba native Aldo Agnelli.
By then we had built back up our appetites — and had a plan for how to sate them while staying on a budget: the apericena, an Italian portmanteau describing the trend of turning the complimentary snacks accompanying aperitivi into a full cena (dinner). At Voglia di Vino, an intimate wine bar with an impressive by-the-glass list, my 4.50-euro glass of nebbiolo — a cheaper, less-heralded wine made from the same grape as Barolo — arrived with a platter of cheeses and ham, small squares of focaccia, grissini (a regional sort of breadstick) and a bowl of hazelnuts. It all added up to a satisfying and classically Piedmontese repast.
We started the next morning amid the dizzyingly pungent aroma of truffles at the fair’s main site, a large covered market hall filled with vendors showcasing specialties of the region — cheeses, salumi, wines, hazelnut cakes, snails, fresh pastas and, of course, white truffles. For a 2.50-euro entrance fee, you can happily occupy yourself with unlimited free samples of food and wine. But a finer pleasure is bantering with the truffle sellers — many trifulau (truffle hunters) themselves — who proudly proffer their knobby wares to hold and smell. One truffle I sniffed was the size of my fist and weighed 166 grams — and cost a whopping 435 euros. But this year’s wet summer yielded an unusually abundant harvest, so there were also bargains to be found: 20 euros for a 14-gram truffle that would generously serve two was a deal too good to pass up.
Before leaving the market, we also bought some picnic supplies: a thick baton of truffle-infused, wild boar salami (10 euros) and a hunk of truffle-laced cheese (8.62 euros). We augmented those purchases with a baguette from a panetteria (97 cents) and some veal meatballs (3.90 euros) from a deli before packing up the car and departing Alba for the countryside. It was time to devote our olfactories to some fine wine.
The Barolo wine region is a picturesque area southwest of Alba with vineyard-lined slopes and handsome hilltop villages crowned with medieval castles and towers. More compact than, say, the expansive rolling hills of Chianti in Tuscany, the area is easily explored with limited time; the drive from one hilltop village to the next rarely takes more than 15 minutes. Our first stop was the cantina of Renato Ratti, a respected Barolo producer, where I had booked a wine tasting. In a spacious tasting room with picture windows overlooking a valley of vineyards, we sampled four wines, including a single-vineyard Barolo. The tasting was free, though most of the other visitors made purchases while we were swirling and sipping.
Afterward, we sought out a hillside chapel near the village of La Morra that had been transformed into a work of art in 1999 by Sol LeWitt, David Tremlett and more than a few gallons of bright paint. The contrast between the vividly colored chapel and the soft autumnal hues of the surrounding vineyards was jarring, but it was still a lovely spot to picnic, as we did on a bench nearby. Our lunch spread even received praise from a group of Italian tourists – “Meraviglioso, ragazzi!” exclaimed one woman, as I bit into a slice of truffled salami. It was marvelous indeed. And there was enough left over for lunch the next day too.
Most villages in the area have a community wine cellar called a cantina comunale where you can sample and buy local wines. In La Morra, the cantina was hosting a special Barolo tasting event, but the 10-euro entry fee was beyond our budget, especially with more free tastings on the itinerary. So instead we marveled at the stunning (and free) views from the hilltop village’s stone tower, where the panorama spanned the Barolo hills and the snow-covered Alps.
We continued on to Serralunga d’Alba, another tiny village; we skipped the 5-euro tour of its lovely 14th-century castle and simply admired it from outside. Just down the road was Pira Luigi, a small winery where the vintner himself, Gianpaolo Pira, greeted us at the door. One of the best parts of visiting small producers is meeting the vintners and learning about their particular winemaking operations, which we did as Mr. Pira poured us six wines: dolcetto, barbera d’Alba, nebbiolo and three Barolos.
Afterward he pointed out the different vineyards on the hillside below where grapes for each of the Barolos were harvested. There was no charge for the visit, but it would have been poor form to leave without buying something – an unspoken rule when visiting small producers in the region. Fortunately, we’d fallen in love with his 2010 Barolo Marenca and jumped at the opportunity to buy this coveted wine at the below-retail price of 37 euros.
For dinner, we went to Vinoteca Centro Storico, a wine bar and restaurant in town where many of the simple dishes on the menu – carne cruda, paccheri with tomatoes and pecorino – cost less than 10 euros each. But even with a cheap food bill, I didn’t have the budget for a bottle of Barolo. Instead I heeded the advice of Eric Asimov, the New York Times wine critic, who had suggested that I look for inexpensive dolcettos and barberas. So I scanned the thick wine list until I hit upon a small producer he’d recommended; Bartolo Mascarello’s barbera d’Alba was juicy and balanced with subtle flavors of red fruits and violets.
That night, we stayed at Il Girasole, a small inn in the hamlet of Castiglione Falletto. Our comfortable double room with sweeping views over the valley to La Morra cost 60 euros, which included a fantastic breakfast buffet of muesli, yogurt, cheese, prosciutto, soft rolls, chocolate cake and warm marmalade-filled cornetti.
After a Sunday morning stroll through the sleepy village, we drove to the town of Barolo, the most touristy of the places we visited. At Enoteca Regionale, a high-tech machine dispenses tastes of about 30 different wines for 2 or 3 euros each. I’d enjoyed using a similar system at Le Cantine di Greve in Chianti, but here I found few wines that I wanted to sample for that price. We found an even better – and cheaper – tasting opportunity around the corner at a small enoteca called Il Bacco. The shelves were stocked with bottles from top producers that we’d failed to find elsewhere, and the friendly proprietress was generous with samples. We tried a nebbiolo, two Barolos, and then a pair of digestifs while nibbling on dark chocolates. The stop provided a delicious and free taste to savor before the drive home.
In our kitchen that evening, Dave uncorked a bottle that I’d purchased at Il Bacco: a barbera d’Alba from G.D. Vajra, another small producer that Eric Asimov had recommended. It wasn’t Barolo, but it was delicious to drink while preparing dinner: thin, ribbonlike egg pasta called tajarin that we buttered and topped with generous shavings of our white truffle. Surrounded by the wonderful aroma of truffles, we sat down to an indulgent meal that, before exploring Piedmont, this frugal traveler never imagined she could afford.