Escargot

Snails, at first glance, are about as appetizing as life insurance. 

Never before had I walked through a garden, semi-translucent shells in hand, with the intent to put them on a plate. Never before had I looked into the depths of their wispy, stalk-like eyes and contemplated the transformative abilities of butter, garlic and crisped bread. 

Never before had the name “escargot” evoked any imagery in my mind, and until one wintry Chicago evening, certainly not my taste buds. But in the darkest corner of a dimly lit restaurant, I became the enlightened. 

The grayish, glistening, coiled creatures sitting before me challenged all preconceptions, raised defiantly from the buttery pastry grounding them and encircled in whispered French. With their unique texture, ingredients and flavor, escargot is akin to consuming raw whimsy. 

It’s a palette-changing food – an experience, as much as it is a delicacy.