R E C I P E S
Escargots à la Bourguignonne (Snails in Garlic Butter)
Other good things can be done with snails, but none is more pleasing in its simplicity and jolt of flavor than classic snails in garlic butter. The strong butter balances the earth taste of the snails, which is not pleasing to all. More restaurants today might offer snails if the finer kinds hadn’t been eclipsed 25 years ago by achatine snails from Indonesia and China, which are cheap but so mushy and muddy tasting that they only underscore how good a Burgundian or petit gris can be, even from a can.By Edward Behr
The Burgundian snail, or escargot des vignes (Helix pomatia), is a large variety more common in eastern France. The petit gris (Cornu aspersum) is smaller and found in the south and west of the country, from Provence through Brittany. In France, either kind can be bought live, canned, or frozen. Enthusiasts prefer live ones gathered in nature to cultivated ones. Consumption is so great in France that other varieties are imported from Turkey, Algeria, and central Europe. One reason for the success of canned snails is that preparing live ones from scratch is a long process. It used to be thought best to gather them in the fall after they had sealed themselves in their shells to hibernate. (These days, a better understanding of their anatomy allows for consumption year-round.)
Old recipes called for first feeding them a plain diet of lettuce for a week and then putting them into a crock with salt and water to purge bitterness. After many washings in fresh water, they would be cooked for 3½ to 4 hours with water, lots of white wine, garlic, and a bouquet garni; the intestine was removed, and they were returned to their shells. North Americans have no choice but to buy canned. In the United States, online, you can find sources of canned wild Burgundy snails put up by the French firm Henri Maire (sometimes under the label La Maison de l’Escargot), which specializes in snails.
For basic à la bourguignonne, the snails are cooked in a simple garlic butter containing plenty of parsley. Some versions add chopped shallots, and others go so far as to put a shallot-and-white- wine reduction into the bottom of the shells before adding the snails, but these are unnecessary grande cuisine conceits. (An old chef from Nîmes used to tell me, “Those Parisians put shallots everywhere!”) The generous amount of parsley helps the butter form a beautiful green foam as the snails cook. The assertive garlic will swallow up the flavors of a finer white wine, but the sharp acidity of a young generic Chablis or a lesser Sauvignon Blanc is just right, the parsley supporting the combination. Any leftover butter is excellent melted on a hot grilled steak.
1 medium clove (6 gr) garlic, coarsely chopped
3/8 teaspoon (2.5 gr) salt
black pepper
14 tablespoons (200 gr) unsalted butter, in 1-inch (2- to 3-cm) pieces, at cool room temperature
about 1 cup (50 gr) washed and dried parsley leaves, lightly compressed
a lemon, for juice
3 dozen large to extra-large snails, or at least 6 dozen small ones
Heat the oven to 450° F (230° C). Place the garlic, salt, and pepper in the bowl of the processor, and with the machine running, add the butter bit by bit. Scrape down the sides, and process again to be sure all is smooth and the garlic is reduced to a puree. Add the parsley to the processor along with a squeeze of lemon juice, and pulse until the leaves are chopped no more than fine.
Rinse the snails and dry them in a paper towel. Put them into ramekins holding about 6 snails in a single layer, and spread the butter mixture on top. Bake until the butter is very foamy and the snails are very hot, about 10 minutes. (Cooked too long, the foam subsides and the butter tastes simply greasy — some books warn against a sizzle, but it’s a plus as long as there’s foam with it.) Serves 6.
From The Art of Eating Cookbook
