Fat Dad is back after a brief hiatus to mourn the loss of the King of Pop. Since it received very little coverage in the media it may come as a shock to you that Michael Jackson has died. Information surrounding funeral arrangements, memorials and the manner of death has been kept at a minimum by Jacko's family, closest advisers and friends, who, obviously have no interest in mugging for the cameras, sitting for self-serving interviews, or otherwise turning this tragedy into a media circus. One of the few enduring images (see photo at right) to leak 0ut from the private memorial ceremony held in honor of Jackson is a photo of the Rev. Al Sharpton, clearly grief stricken, but still collected enough to comfort a female Jackson fan who also appears overcome with incredible grief. These photos were so poignant, so moving, that Fat Dad was forced to shut down the blog for a week. How could I type out my silly musings on something as insignificant as cooking when a man of the cloth like Sharpton was attempting to deal with the
the loss of the world's greatest human being and entertainer with such grace and dignity. (Based on the photo at right, also taken at the Jackson memorial, it appears that only director Spike Lee was taking Jackson's death harder than Sharpton).
After a week's hiatus, and after the limited initial reporting of the death in the seemingly disinterested news media had ended ( as far as i can tell there has been nary a mention of Jackson in weeks while the death of Walter Cronkite, a man who never wrote so much as a dirty limerick let alone cut an album the magnitude of Thriller, has caused a virtual outpouring of biography shows, news interviews, etc.) Fat Dad was collected enough to consider putting together a Jackson Memorial Menu here in the blogosphere. Imagine my dismay when I learned shortly thereafter that food had played a role in Jackson's death. The coroner who performed Jackson's autopsy has confirmed that Jackson died after suffering a severe bout of food poising. Apparently the King of Pop was fond of eating twelve year old wieners. Out of respect for Jackson's family, particular his loving father Joseph, Fat Dad immediately scrapped any plans for a Jackson themed menu. Instead Fat Dad wants to discuss something that MJ probably never ate, (unless Joseph "asked" him to): Snails.
Now I know snails are not everyone's cup of tea, and Fat Dad must admit that the first time he heard mention of eating snails he didn't immediately think, "That sounds like good eating," but today snails are one of Fat Dad's favorite food stuffs. I hadn't, quite frankly, eaten snails in a while (we don't find them on the menu much here in central Alabama), but what
got me headed down the snail trail was the magnificent creature pictured at right. I was hurrying out my back door headed to work one morning a few days ago when I encountered him slowly crawling up the door jamb, head and tail stretched to their limits. And naturally I began to wonder if he was eatable. As soon as I got to the office I ran a few Google searches and learned that I am apparently the only person in the world who has any interest in the eatability of Alabama wild snails. I did learn that Alabama is the home of numerous wild snail species and that most if not all reproduce by mating with themselves, that is, they are hermaphrodites that possess both male and female sex organs. While I was pondering why one might do anything else if you could have sex with yourself, I soon learned the answer: sometimes while mating the snail's sex organs will get stuck together, presumably a byproduct of the weird angle they have to get into to accomplish this unholy task. When this happens the snail gnaws off its male organ to free itself. Ouch! Talk about hurting the one you love. Since getting sick from eating wild snails seems about as appetizing as gnawing off my manhood, Fat Dad abandoned the idea of stewing up a batch of home grown yard slugs and instead began to wonder where he might get his hands on some reasonably reliable imported live snails raised just for eating. After a little investigation it became readily apparent that no one, not even the big boys, cooks with live snails. In his Les Halles Cookbook, the American master of authentic French cooking Anthony Bourdain writes:
"I could lie to you. I could tell you to use fresh snails, implying that we, of course, use only fresh ones at the restaurant. The truth? I don't know any restaurant, have never in twenty-eight years seen any U.S. restaurant--no matter how good or prestigious--use fresh snails. Oh, a lot of them have snail shells, but they stuff them with snails out of a can. I'm sure someone uses fresh. Somewhere. But let's face it, even if you could get fresh snails (and I would have no idea where to send you), by the time you've had a good look at the things in their living, natural glory, by the time you've dug them out of their shells for the first time...you're likely not going to want to eat them. So do as the pros do: Find the best, priciest, preferably French canned snails (thought the Taiwanese ones have been fooling the French chefs for years) and use those."
If its good enough for Tony Bourdain, its certainly good enough for me, so canned it is.
By now I am sure that those of you who have never eaten snails are wondering why in the world you should try. Is Fat Dad really suggesting you put something in your mouth that spends its life crawling around in the dirt, fornicating with itself and, by admission of one of America's best chefs and food writers is, contrary to just about every other food stuff in the world, better after its been canned rather than fresh? The answer is yes. If you are reading this blog, if you have taken time out of your day to actually think about food that you aren't at this very moment eating, then you are somewhat of a foodie, which means that you most likely eat and enjoy eating oysters. Author Elenor Clark once wrote, "If you don't love life you can't enjoy an oyster; there is a shock of freshness to it and intimations of the ages of man, some piercing intuition of the sea and all its weeds and breezes. They shiver you for a split second." In other words, the oyster is the very essence of the sea. Cold and slightly salty, the first bite, or sometimes swallow, can't help but remind of you being at the beach. Fat Dad would argue the same can be said of the lowly snail. Just as unappetizing to look at as the oyster, perhaps less so, the snail is to the land what the oyster is to the sea. It's got that fresh beets, fresh from the ground potato earthiness to it, and a pleasant meaty mouth feel that's not that far off from a steamed oyster. Just think of the snail as a land oyster and you will have little to no problem popping one in your mouth. Now that you're a convert let's get on to the food . . .
Escargots:
When I was a kid my grandfather loved to tell the following joke: A snail walked into a car dealership and asked the salesman to look at the new Nissan Z sports car. After taking it for a spin the snail agreed to buy the car as long as the salesman removed all the Z's and replaced them with S's. The salesman agreed and quickly had his mechanics make the change. As the snail pulls off in the converted Z the salesman turns to his head mechanic and says, "Look at that 'S' car go." Corny, I know, but my grandfather told me that joke close to 30 years ago and to this day I can't eat snails without thinking of it. It may not be laugh out loud funny, but, like the dish that inspired it, it always makes me smile. Here's the traditional recipe for escargot, without question the single most popular way to prepare snails, which I "borrowed" form Bourdain's Les Halles Cookbook
ingredients:
24 snails
1 shallot, thinly sliced
12
1/2 cup white wine
1 head garlic, peeled and separated
1 oz flat leaf parsley
4 oz butter
salt and pepper
12 slices of baguette
In a small saute pan, combine the snails, shallot, and white wine and bring to a simmer. Cook for 15 minutes, then drain and set the snails aside. In a food processor, combine the garlic and parsley and pulse until finely chopped. Add the butter and process until the mixture is a smooth green paste. Season with salt and pepper. Preheat your broiler. Line a clean saute pan with the baguette slices. Spread tops of baguettes with green butter and heat under broiler just until butter melts. When the butter is liquefied, add the snails. As soon as the butter is sizzling, remove from heat and serve immediately.
Caracoles:
If you are feeling a little adventurous you can step out a bit and try this traditional Spanish preparation for snails.
ingredients:
24 snails
2 Tbs olive oil
1 onion, chopped
1 bell pepper, seeded and finely chopped
3 tomatoes, finely chopped and seeded
2 Tbs all purpose flour
pinch of paprika
1 bay leaf
5 oz dry cured ham, diced
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
5 sprigs of fresh parsley, chopped
1 hard cooked egg, chopped
salt and pepper
Drain canned snails and set aside. Heat oil in pan and add onion and bell pepper. Cook over low heat stirring occasionally, for about 10 minutes, until onion begins to brown. Add the tomato and cook, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes more. Sprinkle flour over mixture and stir in, then remove pan from heat, and season with paprika to taste. Stir in sufficient water to make a fairly thick sauce. Add bay leaf. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Stir in the ham, then add the garlic and parsley. Pour sauce into the pan with the snails and heat through. Remove from heat and add chopped hard cooked egg.
I hope that those of you who are snail virgins will be inspired by this week's post to try something new. Jonathan Swift is credited with saying "He was a bold man who first eat an oyster." The same is certainly true of the first courageous bastard who plopped a common garden slug in his mouth. And just think, even if you hate it, it's got to be better than gnawing off your own sex organs. Oh, that reminds me: RIP Jacko.
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