So, I got this wild idea, right? Snail caviar. Sounds super posh, doesn’t it? Like something you’d see on one of those fancy cooking shows. But me, I’m always thinking, “Could I actually do that?” Not buy it, you understand, but actually make it. From scratch.
First job, obviously, was getting the snails. I wasn’t about to order some special breed online or anything like that. Nah. I figured, garden snails, they’re snails, right? Good enough for an experiment. After a good downpour of rain, I went out into the garden with a bucket. It was a bit slimy, not gonna lie, poking around in the damp. I picked a good bunch of them, tried to get the bigger ones. Brought them inside, gave them a good rinse under the tap.
Encouraging the Magic
Okay, so how do you get snails to lay eggs? I did a tiny bit of reading online, but mostly, I just winged it, you know? I put them in a big plastic tub with some damp soil from the garden and chucked in a few lettuce leaves. Tried to make it like a little snail paradise for them. Then I covered the top with some fine mesh, the kind you use for windows, so they wouldn’t go on a grand tour of my kitchen overnight. Then, it was just a waiting game. And checking. A lot of checking.
It took a few days, maybe a week, I reckon. Then, bingo! I started seeing these tiny little clusters of white specks in the soil. Like miniature pearls, if pearls were super, super tiny. Seriously, they were small. Really, really small. Not what I was expecting, size-wise, if I’m honest.
Then came the fiddly bit. Harvesting them. I used a tiny spoon, you know, like one of those little cosmetic spatulas you get with face cream, to gently scoop them up. You gotta be incredibly careful; they’re so delicate, you could crush them just by looking at them too hard. I put them into a small bowl of clean, cool water. It wasn’t a huge amount, mind you. Don’t go expecting a mountain of caviar from a handful of garden snails. It’s more like a teaspoon, if you’re lucky.
Right, so now I had these little snail eggs. What next? I wasn’t aiming for some Michelin star recipe or anything complicated. I rinsed them again, very, very gently. Then I thought, well, caviar is usually a bit salty, isn’t it? So, I made a very light brine – just a tiny pinch of salt in some water – and let the eggs sit in it for a short while. Maybe 15-20 minutes? Not long. Then I rinsed them again. That was pretty much it. No fancy herbs, no secret ingredients, nothing like that. Just keeping it simple.
So, there it was. My homemade snail caviar. The moment of truth. I put a tiny bit on a plain cracker, just to get the pure taste. The texture? Kinda popped, a little bit like tobiko, those flying fish eggs, but much softer, more delicate. The taste? Earthy. That’s the best word for it. Earthy, with a definite hint of… well, snail, or at least what a snail’s environment tastes like. It wasn’t bad, not at all. But it wasn’t amazing either. It was just… interesting. An experience.
Was it worth all the effort? For the experience, yeah, sure. It’s one of those things you do once just to say you’ve done it, to satisfy your curiosity. Am I going to start a snail caviar business from my back garden? Definitely not. It’s a lot of faff, a lot of patience, for a tiny amount of something that tastes… well, like the garden it came from. But hey, now I know! And it’s a good story to tell, right?
I guess that’s the thing with some of these fancy-sounding foods. Sometimes the idea of them is more exciting than the reality. Or maybe I just needed better quality snails. Or a proper, actual recipe. Who knows? For now, I think I’ll stick to buying my caviar, if I ever get a craving for fish eggs, that is. Not so sure about snail ones again anytime soon.
