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Snails
Appears in
Published 2012
A little rush basket, hanging by the door of a stone farmhouse, catches the eye of a Victorian Englishman as he explores, on foot, some of the remote villages of southern France. He peers into the basket, and finds himself looking at a mass of snails. The owner of the basket, standing nearby, sees him recoil and says quietly, ‘These snails disgust you, but us poor peasants eat no other meat all the year, except at Easter.’
There were indeed, many very bad years when there was no meat at all for the peasants, and when snails were vital to their diet, but they always were and still are eaten for pleasure too, in vast quantities. Languedociens adore them. I was excited, travelling through the Pays catalan, at being given in a small restaurant a great plate of tiny, stripy snails, all bathed in a delicious herb and tomato sauce. It was messy, but eating them with chunks of bread was a joy.