THIS week, something a little different. And something a great many of you may, perhaps justifiably, look at and wrinkle your noses. For this week, we venture into the undergrowth and discover the wonders of the snail.

Many of us will have tried, or at least seen, snails on the menus of many a French bistro. Brought to the table in foaming garlic and parsley butter, they’re an impressive sight, and whilst not the tastiest meat on Earth, they are an enjoyable way to start a meal.

There’s fun to be had in hoicking them out of their shells (they are cleaned, cooked and popped back in for presentation’s sake) and dipping crusty bread into the hot, fragrant butter. Almost every time I’ve had snails they’ve been overcooked, making them the texture of rubber, and genuinely hard to eat, but occasionally, the chef knows what they’re doing, and each snail reveals itself to be a delightful meaty morsel, with a texture not unlike good chewy flank steak.

Recently I found the most amazing company, Aylesbury Escargots, run by the charming Whartons, and they sent me a little package of blanched snail meats, along with a small jar of snail caviar. Yes, you read that right. Snail caviar. A little jar of preserved white snail eggs, with a creamy texture and vaguely woody saline flavour.

The snail meats themselves were enormous, and required braising for a couple of hours in a nice vegetable bouillon. They emerged tasty and tender, and required only gentle reheating in a little warm butter to serve.

The blurb accompanying the little chaps explained how the farmed snails are Helix Aspersa, a non-foraging cousin of the edible garden snail, and as such they are fed cereal and showered daily in a relatively enclosed space, without having to leg it round the garden trying to find them. Apparently they look forward to their daily shower, leaning towards the spray to get totally covered. Charming, eh?

So I wanted to get these wonder-snails used as soon as possible, and was reminded of an idea I’d had when picking the first handfuls of this season’s wild garlic in my secret woodland spot a few days ago. I noticed several small snails going about their languorous business among the emerald green shoots, and immediately thought how nicely the pungent, fresh garlic would go with these tender snails, in a twist on the classic recipe.

I was going to make a risotto with the wild garlic anyway, and thought the snails would make a perfect addition, adding a bit of textural contrast as well as being the obvious conversation piece! So I set to, and came up with the following recipe you can follow here.

Now of course, many of you won’t be remotely interested in trying snails, which is a shame, but I feel it necessary to point out that you could always use prawns, scallops or even pieces of chicken breast if you don’t fancy taking a walk on the snail-y side.

Whatever you decide, make sure you get out there and find some of that beautiful, pungent wild garlic, which is now emerging from the snow, and should be with us for several weeks.

Finally, I gather I may have ruffled a few feathers with my article on beefburgers, especially my attempts at humour regarding horses. If I offended anyone, I do apologise. I sought not to upset anyone, but merely suggested there was a strange moralising going on re: beef / horsemeat. I adore horses. My wife is from a horse-breeding family. I think my point is still valid; they are edible and the world is hungry. QED. All I can say is I hope the gastropod lobby don’t get wind of this article!

Should you wish to try Aylesbury snails, simply go to: www.aylesbury-escargots.co.uk and order online. They’re lovely people to deal with, and the snails are amazing. Aprons on!

Wild Garlic Risotto With Snails

For the snails:

3-4 snail meats per person

½ carrot

1 stick celery

1 shallot

1 clove garlic

A few parsley stalks

1 bayleaf

A little extra-virgin olive oil

A splash of dry white wine

500ml Chicken or vegetable stock

A splash of Madeira

For the risotto:

200g risotto rice (Arborio, preferably)

1 large banana shallot (or ½ an onion), finely chopped

1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

A large handful wild garlic leaves

A splash of dry white wine

500ml hot vegetable or chicken stock

50g salted butter

50g grated fresh Reggiano Parmesan

A few herbs or wild leaves for garnish

Method:

First, let’s attend to the snails. Wash them thoroughly, and drain. Roughly dice the carrot, celery, garlic and shallot, and brown well in a glug of olive oil in a deep saucepan.

When the vegetables are nicely coloured, add a splash of white wine, and allow it to reduce almost to nothing, then add the stock, bring to the boil and turn the heat down to a simmer.

Add the snail meats, cover with a lid or baking parchment disc, and simmer very gently for two and a half hours until the meats are tender and fragrant. Strain the liquid into a clean pan and pick out the snails. Chill the snails until required.

Add a large splash of Madeira to the strained stock and reduce until syrupy and deeply-flavoured. Strain into a small pan and keep warm. To make the risotto, wash and drain the wild garlic leaves well. In a wide pan, heat the olive oil, and gently cook the diced shallot until soft (about 30 minutes), then add the rice and raise the pan to a medium heat.

Stir the rice until it’s starting to become translucent and glossy. Add a small splash of wine and allow this to become absorbed.

Then, in small amounts, pour in the hot stock, stirring constantly until each splash is absorbed by the rice. You should eventually have a lovely creamy risotto, each grain of rice having a barely-perceptible bite to it. Finish the risotto by beating in the butter and Parmesan cheese to make a thick, creamy mixture, and finally, chop the wild garlic and stir through. Reheat the snails in a little sizzling butter, and serve in bowls on top of a good ladleful of the risotto, along with a little of the snail stock reduction and a few herbs if you wish.