Yesterday Foodgoat and I had, firsthand, a culinary experience that we had, thus far, only heard rumors about.
We ate escargot.
Snails. We ate snails. With garlic butter.
Does this make us official gourmands?
We used bamboo skewers to fish out the brownish slug from inside the shell and dip it in the spilled butter. We didn't have those fancy tongs (the kind that Lucy put on her nose) to hold the shells so we just used our fingers.
Considering that these were the close relatives of the nasty things that I can't help stepping on in the sidewalk after a rain, it was surprisingly good. Rather like oysters. Foodgoat thinks he saw a head and little antennae on one of the ones he ate, though, which can sort of mess with your head. But as long as you didn't think of it like that, the texture was very smooth and pleasing and the flavor rich and tasty. And you are left with a pile of empty snail shells, which, had I thought of it, I could have left out in the garden for other snails to find homes in.
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