Londoners may wish to suppose that snail caviar will soon grace the plates of Mayfair restaurants, such is the terrific influence enjoyed by Jeremy Clarkson.
In his Sunday Times column, the farmer, publican and broadcaster conceded that health complications had led him, for a time, to pursue the path of Ozempic, almost as popular a weight loss drug among celebrities today as cocaine is said to have been in the Nineties.
But Clarkson also wrote that Ozempic eventually made him unwell, and in fact caused him to gain weight. In its place, another form of medication first designed to treat diabetes (as Ozempic was originally intended for), and also snail caviar, a healthy and nutritious treat; equally an indulgent one that Clarkson says helps to curb repeated desires to eat Dairy Milk fruit and nut.
Before we get to the matter of hand, you are likely to be hoping for information on the alternative to Ozempic: Clarkson has started micro-dosing Mounjaro, another type 2 diabetes treatment. He says it’s been far more effective in the three months he’s been taking it.
As for the snails’ eggs: “I've also discovered snail caviar, which is… actually unborn snails,” wrote the 64-year-old. “But weirdly it does taste and feel like the real deal. So you can pop a teaspoon of that onto half a Ritz cracker and you have yourself the 21st century's answer to a medieval banquet.”
There is evidence to suggest snail caviar – or escargot caviar – has been enjoyed since ancient times. They were once known as “pearls of Aphrodite” and prized for their apparent aphrodisiac properties. This is almost certainly nonsense, same as oysters, although never knock the placebo effect and the fact that both are usually paired with Champagne.
More recently, snail caviar has been ticking over as a popular delicacy in France (obviously), Poland and parts of central Europe. The last round of notable hype might have taken place in the Eighties, when journalists for the Los Angeles Times, Time magazine and beyond covered the launch of Le Brut d’Escargot in the US at an upscale New York food show. No clear word on whether the brand still exists in the US today. It was then said to be available in Fortnum & Mason in London, too, but no more.
Certainly snail caviar appears off-menu here today. Which is odd given our city’s penchant for the peculiar-sounding and “luxurious”. Here is a product colourless in its natural state, but pinkish white after processing. It offers an appearance not dissimilar to pearls and is clearly an interesting alternative to traditional caviar, ever-sought after whether plopped onto modern vehicles such as fried chicken and potato smileys, or classics like smoked salmon and the bonnets of rented Lamborghinis.
I haven’t tried snail caviar. I have no real desire to, either, though now Clarkson’s become an unofficial ambassador, I’m sure they’ll appear on menus soon; more than likely at a press lunch of some description, or at a pop-up. In that case, I hope past reviews ring true: these dainty unborn land mollusks are said to be reminiscent of “baked asparagus” and “mushrooms”, with a “subtle flavour” and “woody notes”. They are mostly deployed as their fishy cousins: on blinis, atop soups, with baked fish and so on.
And though uncommon, if entirely redundant on London restaurant menus, snail caviar is available to buy here to enjoy at home, possibly while watching I’m A Celeb. Snail farms such as Dorset Snails is a known producer, while Caspian Caviar – one of the capital’s biggest suppliers – sells it from time-to-time.
As for the cost? It’s high. Caviar is as caviar does. A box of six 50g pots, farmed and processed in Spain, would set you back 450 euros, which is just under £400. Fill your (Wellington) boots and join Clarkson’s new weight loss programme by all means.
