Hunting for truffles in British woodland — theguardian.com

We are racing through country lanes, beech trees closing in around us. In the back of the van, Zebedee the truffle hound howls hopefully. “He knows we’re close. He can smell it,” says Melissa Waddingham, his owner and a truffle hunter who is taking me deep into the South Downs to teach me what she knows. It is a beautiful morning – one of those November days that pretends summer hasn’t ended. But still, when we step out of the car, there is a nip in the air. “That’s good,” says Melissa, judging the temperature. “A long, dry summer isn’t kind to fungi. They need rain and autumnal chill.”

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