WHY NOT ESCAR-NO?

Article by Roger Ge

Illustrations by Elena Grajales

EEveryone has their go-to comfort food—something predictable, familiar, and perhaps conventional. On the other end of the spectrum, though, are foods that may come off as weird, distasteful, or perhaps even inedible. For many in the U.S., or those otherwise acquainted with a “North American” culinary tradition, these “stranger” foods may often entail insects, offal (animal innards), and even blood.

One food that for some may fall into this unfamiliar territory is the escargot—French for “snail.” As an average escargot enjoyer, it is hard for me to find them undelectable. But thinking back to my first time trying them, this common sentiment is not lost on me. It took me minutes of deliberation just to close my eyes and take a leap of faith. Indeed, a 1950s New York Times article describes a “fear complex” surrounding the ingestion of snails. On how to overcome this fear, the article urges readers to simply go for it. Edible snails are not just any odd snail snatched from whatever branch or leaf it happens to be nestled on; snails used in escargot are farmed through a process called heliciculture and go through formal steps of hygiene to end up on your plate.

Of course, part of the “fear” surrounding snails derives from the fact that it is, in fact, a snail—a slimy slug with a shell, or worse, an agricultural pest. No less, having to quite literally use special tongs and forks to pry the snail out from its shell just to eat it adds little to its palatability for most, I’d imagine. These drawbacks are all in spite of the fact that the snail is actually quite nutritious, being a good source of protein, iron, calcium, and vitamin A, while having low-fat content. Although, this should all be taken with a grain of salt since the buttery way of preparing escargot devests it of most health benefits.

Considering all the barriers to eating snails then begs the question: why is one of the first images conjured by the word “escargot” a fine dining establishment perhaps somewhere in Paris, France? The French way of preparing and enjoying snails is commonly associated with and even accepted as an expected facet of any restaurant serving haute cuisine. Rather than besmirching the façade of some Michelin-starred restaurant with rumors of serving wretched snails, escargot has a comfortable and established slot reserved on their menus. However, the French escargot is not the only way of preparing and enjoying snails; regional variations exist and are practiced in other parts of Europe, Africa, and Asia.

With records of its ingestion tracing back some 30,000 years, snails fluctuated between being a delicacy, described as an “elite food” in Roman times, to being relegated as a crude and desperate food for survival in harsh times. If history proves anything, the honor of being a “delicacy” is not rooted in any concrete, objective criteria. Like other aspects of culture, food gains and loses prestige depending on who prepares it and who eats it. The escargot is just one example that hints at the flimsy foundation behind what constitutes haute cuisine today. As much as I personally enjoy escargot, I cannot help but wonder why often the first association incited by “escargot” is one of sophistication, but other foods—such as fried insects—using ingredients just as provoking receive less fanfare and recognition.

Escargot represents the proof that any food can be “fancy” if society deems it to be; there is no correct way of eating, nor is there some impartial standard to what constitutes good food. With European cuisine often being at the forefront of what is considered “elite” and many other culinary traditions dismissed as mere runners-up, escargot asks us to reconsider why we reject certain foods and elevate others when they may fundamentally be the same. For now, though, it appears that escargot will remain a unique standout on the fancy menus of fine dining.