It all started with a trio of truffles from the Chef’s Diamond Company:

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…first sliced to reveal all their grainy goodness:

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…then extra thin on the truffle slicer:

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…then combining chopped truffles with shallots and finely, freshly ground long peppers with Hearst Ranch ground beef straight from California:

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(Note: These were true tuber melanosporum truffles, not summer truffles.* The winter truffles of Perigordian fame, grown in Western Australia (where it’s winter right now) and full of intense, earthy, truffle-y goodness. So intense, in fact, the kitchen filled up with the aroma as soon as we broke the seal on the vacuum bag.)

All the while, we were being plied with top shelf margaritas by host Bob Margison…made with a floater of ultra-top shelf mezcal, just in case we were feeling alcohol-deprived:

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…which came in handy when it came time to stand over a hot fire cooking all that truffle-infused meat, and then assembled the ultimate double-double truffle burger by placing two all-beef, truffle-stuffed, truffle-embossed patties together inside a soft, squishy bun**:

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After all that beefy goodness, ELV started drinking some of Big Bob’s primo stuff when suddenly we found ourselves in need of a resting place for our glass of fine, Australian shiraz,when this woman conveniently placed her hips under our glass:

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…someone dared ELV to pour wine on his head(?):

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…we threw Calvert Collins in the hot tub:

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…and all sorts of epic debauchery broke out***:

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…leading to a number of epic hangovers the next day.

THE END

* Summer truffles are nothing but a tasteless marketing gimmick used by restaurants to run up your tab.

** ELV loves him his soft squishy burger buns. He considers them the only appropriate use for air bread.

*** As much abasement as could be expected from a bunch of well-fed, white, middle class professionals who kept their clothes on.