The best escargot I ever had was served up at a long closed piano bar in Northeast Minneapolis called, Evette. They were the size of prawns, broiled in what seemed like a cup of garlic butter.
My French hosts when I was last in St. Etienne were stunned to be in the presence of an American who didnt drink Coke with every meal, and decided to attempt to find something I would turn my nose up at, unaware my depression era parents had raised me to be ready and willing to eat anything I could overpower. They tried escargot, in a cream sauce, and decidedly inferior to the plate I had in Northeast, years before, duck liver salad, swimming in hockey puck sized duck livers, the color of massive hematomas, blood sausage, hare in wine (delish) and other odd eats. I considered the trip to be a showcase event of European beers I couldnt get here in the states, and had beer with every meal.
They admitted they had failed to get the laugh they hoped for. I ate everything they threw at me.
The snails look wonderful, Gene. Best I could do on short notice, a shot of yesterdays bone in country style pork ribs, after the smoke was gone, and just before hitting the plate. I grille all winter long.
Best,
Ted
