My pet gourmand

As we're about half-way to truffle season (chef André has already tentatively begun caroling) I thought I'd give you another reason why dogs are man's best friend - or at least add my bone to the sayings likening a dog to its owner. To people who have no pets, this may also read as the weekly money-bleeding stupidity of pet-owners and how dogs just lay back and cash in. Jus' giving you a heads up.

Just over a year ago, my husband and I bought two Korean Jindo Dogs. They are a primitive breed of dogs (unlike the man-made messup of the labradoodle) native to the South Korean island of Jindo. The South Korean government has charged two kennels in Europe (one in Sweden and one in the U.K) with starting a pure-bred population of these dogs, in an attempt to stop the mix-breed called Jindo that you can commonly find in the States. Anyway, when we bought these dogs, little did we know what we were in for. Our male, Kiro, just loves food. He'll eat pretty much anything, especially anything that comes in a Bloom container. Our female Ninni however, is not of that uncompromising disposition. They've both been trained, in the comfort of our own home, to find rags drenched in truffle oil. That's all well and good - we're looking forward to trying them out on Gotland sometime soon - but we've discovered something a bit odd about Ninni. It turns out she's a resurrected Michelin inspector.

Jindo dogs are nothing like labradors. They'll for instance not sniff out something just because you asked, they'll do it if they see a point to it. Playing fetch works once, and if you throw the ball a second time you'll get the look that says "if you're stupid enough to throw it over there again, you can go get it yourself". In the same spirit, when Ninni is offered a treat, she'll only eat it if it's a good treat, not if it's some end-piece saved from the trash. Thus, if André, who loves our dogs, tries to offer her a piece of chicken liver, she'll refuse - because she knows there is chicken liver parfait with cognac somewhere in the fridge. Ninni also loves cheese, but not any kind of cheese. If you try offering her a slice of hushållsost you'll get the offended silent treatment for at least an hour. It has to be a mature cheese, preferably Munster och Prästost. The smellier and more flavoursome the better. Having said that, she's not partial to Chévre but will wolf down an entire Tallegio if you don't stop her.
So, what to do with this picky gourmand? Well, because I'm of a curious disposition we bought several kinds of cheese that we knew she liked, two kinds of butter (Normandie with seasalt and regular from Arla) and Pata Negra and Serrano to see if she could learn to differentiate. This is, by the way, what I mean with money-bleeding stupidity. So, with ten minutes of practice, our Ninni knows the difference between Brie and Tallegio, Parmesan and Pecorino, Normandie butter and regular butter, Pata Negra and Serrano. She knows them by name. She also seems to know them by price class, but that's not from our teachings. Oh, and I might want to mention that she's a paramount of etiquette. She has never ever stooped so low as to do a trick in exchange for a treat. She does not tolerate silly behavior from humans either. If they start talking baby-speak and going "who's a good dog" she elegantly makes her displeasure known by a demonstrative exit from the room. But she is a good friend - if she has a tasty treat she will every so often invite her humans to share by depositing half her mouthful on our laps.

So now I'm wondering when the Guide Rouge will call. She's available between morning walk and afternoon nap daily. As she's a teetotaller I'd happily tag along to evaluate the wines. She won't mind.

(image from google.com)