Shrooming: The Story of a Teenage Truffle King by Emma

Shrooming: The Story of a Teenage Truffle King by Emma Mannheimer
If Ian Purkayastha were a mushroom he would be a black trumpet even though
morels are his favorite. The rolled edges of the black trumpet exactly mirror
Purkayastha’s handsome head of short black hair that maintains a perfect equilibrium
between messy and styled. The smoothness of the black trumpet is echoed in the way he
carries himself, a confident stride that leads the business world to take him seriously.
Emerging from his Brooklyn office on a brisk February day, Purkayastha wears a pair of
thin gray jeans, army green thermal with the top button undone and tan, and waterproof
boots with red plaid panels. Even in gloom of the winter months, Ian’s face maintains a
tan complexion inherited from his Indian father. Although it is early in the morning and
he is exhausted, there is no coffee in sight—Purkayastha does not like the stuff, perhaps
the reason behind his pearly white smile.
Although Ian may not be a mushroom, mushrooms are him; at 21 years old, Ian is
one of the top sellers of truffle mushrooms in the nation. For those who are unaware,
truffles are the be-all end-all of the fungi world. They are hypogeous fungi, meaning that
they prosper underground. Long considered to be an aphrodisiac, ripe truffles exude
chemical compounds that mimic those of mammalian reproductive pheromones. A
compound of the odor is a steroid found in the saliva of rutting boars, the armpits of
sweaty men and the urine of women. These qualities give truffles a dark, overpowering
aroma that for many is intoxicating. Truffles are farmed with the help of animal guides.
Originally pigs were used but they would greedily eat the crop; trained dogs now hunt the
scent.
Although found worldwide, most V.I.P. truffles come from Italy, France and
Spain. The manual labor involved, the short season of each truffle (roughly 2-3 months),
and the level of knowledge that is demanded to harvest them of truffles results in eyeopening prices. White truffles can go for $4,000 per pound; in 2010 a pair were famously
sold for $330,000 at an auction. In her book, Mycophilia: Revelations from the Weird
World of Mushrooms, Eugenia Bone suggests the two ways to truly enjoy an authentic
truffle are to travel to Europe during the height of truffle season, or for the normal person,
to buy one from a reputable distributor. Cue the savior of your average foodie, Ian
Purkayastha.
***
Of the more than 60 known species of truffles, ten are of special interest to the
culinary world and this is where Ian finds his niche. After founding Regalis Foods in May
2012, which describes itself as “your source for freshly foraged wild edibles, wild
American mushrooms, fresh European truffles, Caviar and more”, his client list has
expanded at a rapid rate. It now features crème-de-la-crème New York restaurants,
including Jean-Georges, Le Bernardin, Morimoto, Atera, and the Boulud empire. The list
goes on. Ian is able to pop in unannounced at restaurants that often have month-long
waits. With a goofy smile, he offhandedly mentions the visit he paid to Jean-Georges at
his home: “He is like, the sweetest dude” (Be still, my foodie heart.) Ian’s company also
serves as the direct importer for other truffle distributors located across the States.
Originally from Houston, Ian and his parents moved to Fayetteville, Arkansas
when he was 15, which was a blessing in disguise as it allowed him to unearth his
passion. “I had no friends. I was this, like, city kid that loved cooking and loved food,”
Ian remembers. “I was an outcast who just liked foraging for mushrooms in the woods.”
He leans gently back against the leather chair in his Greenpoint office; loose invoices are
stacked on the desks that line the perimeter of the small rectangular room and Ian
occasionally reaches over to slowly flip through them. His computer quietly dings off
emails every couple of minutes. It’s hard to imagine this attractive 21-year-old who sits
upon a truffle empire as a disgruntled high schooler, chasing elusive foraged goods
instead of girls.
Ian turned his passion for hunting edibles into a business after a trip to Houston.
While out to dinner with a wealthy friend, Ian ordered a black truffle ravioli with a foie
gras sauce. “As soon as I tasted that ravioli, it was like, game over.” Ian emphatically
draws a straight line with his flattened palm indicating the finality of his words.
Returning to Fayetteville, Ian became obsessed with recreating the ravioli.
Inspired by his grandfather, he had begun churning out dishes such as crab cakes at a
young age. His challenge was now an absence of truffles in the middle of Arkansas. After
begging his parents for the prized ingredient (they understandably turned the fifteen-yearold down), Ian spent his entire $300 savings on a shipment of black truffles from Italy.
Once they arrived, he figured he could sell enough to make back what he had spent. A
mission ensued, and Ian ventured out into uncharted territory armed with a cooler full of
truffles, an invoice book, and a pen and a scale, to the three “somewhat high-end
restaurants in all of Arkansas.”
These initial sales proved a success. During his senior year of high school Ian
founded his own distribution company, Tartufi Unlimited. He groans upon hearing the
old name, which means ‘truffle’ in Italian. “Ugh, it sounds so lame now.”
***
Purkayastha’s temperature-controlled storage warehouse feels like a room full of
precious jewels; instead of sparkling diamonds there is caviar and plenty of it, tall,
slender bottles of Italian oils replace sparkling necklaces and instead of gems there are
truffles safely resting in a walk-in fridge that resembles the vault of a bank. Lining the
walls are smaller freezers stuffed with frozen forageables and camo-pattern backpacks
used for deliveries. A large whiteboard hangs on the wall listing the deliveries that need
to be made.
Hovering over a scale, Ian takes a
golf-ball-sized black truffle in his hand,
and gives it a quick, rough scrub with a
brush before examining the specimen. He
pulls a thin knife out of his jeans pocket
and shaves off a small slice, revealing the
beautiful white veining that marbles the
black interior. He handles the truffle in a
way that demonstrates absolute comfort
and assurance, something that must have
taken years of practice when dealing with
a product that goes from roughly $400$700 per pound.
Ian weighing out black truffles for delivery.
When he announces the origin of
the truffle as the Provence region of France, he gives the name its perfect French
pronunciation, which is immediately followed with a description of the forager as “this
dude.” This contrast of culture and adolescence perfectly sums up Purkayastha who
indulges in all the finer culinary things, as well as the less refined. On his days off from
truffle peddling, Purkayastha travels to Pennsylvania where his girlfriend’s family resides
to shoot his collection of guns. Although he is against the NRA and wants it known that
he is not a Republican, Purkayastha says, “I like shooting shit. I bought an AK-47 just for
the hell of it.” It is not difficult to image him with a gun slung over his broad back, sort of
like the guy you want around to hunt mushrooms and shoot fowl to prepare you a meal
worthy of being served at Per Se during the apocalypse.
***
The road to Regalis has been fraught with tribulations. While Ian was still a
student at Fayetteville High, an Italian truffle distributor called P.A.Q hired him as their
North American contact. Initially elated, Ian soon realized the company had no North
American restaurant contacts at all, meaning he had to start from scratch. They
announced they were shipping 20 pounds of truffles his way, which terrified him. Now
selling well over 100 pounds per week, Ian can laugh about the scenario. His parents
allowed him to store the unsold truffles in their refrigerator, which was not ideal as soon,
their pungent perfume flavored almost every meal in the Purkayastha household.
After graduating in 2010, Ian had a plan—he would take his truffle business to the
only place with enough restaurants to fulfill his dream of making it big, New York City.
His parents had only one condition: Ian must attend college. After applying solely to
NYU and receiving a crushing rejection letter Ian received their permission to move to
New Jersey anyway after P.A.Q. rented an office for him. Ian tried higher education once
more in 2011, when he had a one-day stint at Baruch College, but it became painfully
clear that he was more entrepreneur than student.
A fall-out with his Italian employers over a lack of payment led Ian to found
Regalis. He is now “the truffle kingpin” he once dreamed of becoming; the Regalis logo
displays a bright silver crown against a deep blue background. Yet Ian doesn’t let the
elitist side of foodie culture get the better of him. “I have like, the biggest weak spot for
junk food,” he exclaims. “Famous Amos cookies? OH MY GOD, so good. I will totally
get down on some Famous Amos.” To date, a Marie Callender’s chicken pot pie with
white truffle shaved on top of it is one of the best truffle dishes Ian has indulged in. “I
turned a one dollar meal into a two hundred dollar meal.”
***
It is Wednesday morning, delivery day. Ian’s cargo arrived at a FedEx in lower
Manhattan the night before and he wants to deliver the truffles as fresh as possible. By
the time the fungi reach Ian, they are one to three days old. Truffles are largely comprised
of water, which evaporates as the truffle ages and within a week, the weight of a tenpound shipment of truffles can drop to nine and a half – which is a major loss when
dealing with such an expensive product. Ian does one last sweep of the warehouse,
ensuring that he has everything he needs for the delivery and heads to his silver Chevy
HHR loaded with carefully weighed truffles and caviar. The car is dinged up from past
delivery mishaps, conjuring images of Ian as Jason Statham in ‘The Transporter’, rushing
around Manhattan with one goal – a safe journey for the truffles into the waiting arms of
chefs.
Merging onto the Brooklyn Bridge, Ian guides the car with his knees pressed
against the steering wheel, leaving no doubt as to the reason behind the condition of the
vehicle. A cell phone headset dangles off of the rearview mirror, an attempt to decrease
the number of tickets Ian has received for talking on the phone while driving. The first
stop on the truffle delivery tour is the two-Michelin-starred Atera, in Tribeca. Pulling up
in front, Ian hits his hazard lights and shifts the car into Park. “I’m going to illegally park
here, which is going to piss everyone off.” He jumps out of the car, narrowly avoiding
sheets of ice on the sidewalk and carefully takes the restaurant’s order from the trunk.
Ian strolls down several long, dim hallways to the service entrance of the
restaurant, emerging in the kitchen. The two young male chefs on duty greet him with an
elongated, “Heyyyyyyy” and the three of them gossip about other chefs and recent meals
before getting to business. When Ian mentions he might be dropping in later that evening
for dinner the quick response is, “Yeah, man. Great. We’ll feed you your own caviar.”
Chefs are an
intimidating breed of
human. They are fast, nononsense types who want to
trim all the excess fat of
conversation. Yet Ian holds
his ground. He expertly
weighs out the black
truffles and calculates a
price, explaining the quality
Two chefs at the Michelin-starred Atera survey Ian’s goods before purchasing.
of this week’s mushrooms as the chefs listen intently. The three deliveries of the day to
Atera, Jean-Georges and Morimoto take three hours to complete, with a quick stop for
two greasy slices of cheese pizza at Percy’s in the Greenwich Village and a brief
counseling session held via text messaging with his younger brother regarding the ladies.
***
Returning to his office, Ian directs his attention to his product line. Over the past
year Regalis has worked on establishing truffle-ized versions of American-made
products; his most popular thus far are a truffle sea salt in collaboration with salt
harvester Ben Jacobsen in Oregon and a truffle butter made with a European-style butter
from Wisconsin. Specialty food distributor Eric Stone, who sells the Regalis line in the
Northwest and has worked with Ian for a several years says, “Considering the nature of
them, expensive, really high caliber products, it takes a little work to get them into the
right market but they are starting to sell and I see a lot of potential for them, for sure.”
Stone adds of Purkayastha, “I am impressed by the way he carries himself and his
business savvy attitude. Sometimes it’s like, oh, yeah, that’s right, you are 21 years old.
What was I doing when I was 21?”
Truffle-derived products have a bad reputation because they often contain
artificial flavorings that result in poor quality. Scientists have been able to isolate and
reproduce only a few of the hundreds of chemical compounds that give truffles their
desirable aroma and are able to reproduce these in large quantities in laboratories;
however this leads to a harsh, one-dimensional flavoring. Ian’s carefully crafted products
featuring real truffle flavoring have done remarkably well; they have been picked up by
Umami burger and are sold at Whole Foods. “My focus now is to try to become the
leading authority on all things special foods,” Ian says. But he adds, “At the end of the
day I’m still very much in love with truffles.”
Jars of black truffle infused honey at Ian’s warehouse in Greenpoint—a new addition to the Regalis product line.
Sources:
1. Eugenia Bone: Mycophilia: Revelations from the Weird World of
Mushrooms.
2. Ian Purkayastha: [email protected]
3. Eric Stone: [email protected]