Pass the Salt

Big, fat and succulent, the escargots of New Caledonia’s Île des Pins are surely the best in the world.

L'escargots de L'ile des Pins

The early French colonists must have thought it was Christmas when they landed on the island and saw these gorgeous gastropods lumbering across the forest floor. The bulime (Placostylus fibratus), with its elegantly conical shell, is much bigger than the petit gris of the Charente, larger even than the prized Burgundian variety. And, unlike most of the snails I’ve eaten, which are more texture than taste, these guys have a subtle meaty flavour that’s evident despite the garlic with which they are served.

I’m not sure how the Kanaks used to prepare them but now it seems everyone eats them à la française. They are firstly boiled in water, then winkled from their shells, gutted, and replaced with a generous plug of garlic and parsly butter. The prepared shells are then baked in the oven and served with plenty of rice or french bread to mop up the juices.

The downside to this deliciousness is that the snail population on the Île des Pins has been steadily declining. The harvest is now strictly controlled and, dead or alive, they are not allowed to leave the island. If you want to eat them you have to order them from a resort or restaurant, and you have to dig deep for the privilege. I paid $40 for a dozen at a gite on the island; the neighbouring resort charges a similar amount for just six.

But much as I enjoyed them, I won’t be eating them again. Once is enough. Like bluefin tuna, caviar, frogs’ legs and other endangered delicacies, the guilt begins to outweigh the pleasure.

I have, however, brought a bag of empty shells back home with me. Cleaned, declared and passed at the border, they are now an attractive centrepiece on my coffee table. A pleasant reminder of a delicious repast.