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I was on a strategic reconnaissance exercise in France where my team of four spent a rainy night under poncho hooches inside a woodline adjacent to a residential area. By dawn the rain had stopped. It was still overcast and I had just gotten out of my sleeping bag when a man walked by, turning over leaves and branches with a long stick, while murmuring to himself. He paused for just a moment, looking up to see me standing there in my jungle fatigues, and said "Je cherche les escargots." Then he continued on like I wasn't even there. Serious business!
Sautéed in butter and garlic is the way they ought to be.
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