Fraters Libertas

My Dinner with John Fund, Escargot, and Democratic Social Policy

What do escargot, virulent socialism, and the Wall Street Journal's John Fund have in common? Other than the enduring love and devotion of the French, you probably thought nothing at all. But Fraters contributor the Warrior Princess connects the dots in her first hand account of staring each in the face during a recent dinner in St. Paul:

A few weeks ago I had the privilege of having dinner at a lovely restaurant with some mighty important people who were in town for an election law symposium sponsored by the Federalist Society at the University of St. Thomas School of Law. Being raised in a family where dining at Shakey's Pizza was the closest I came to fine cuisine, I was looking forward to enjoying the more refined tastes of civilized society, especially with such an esteemed group of dinner companions. Much to my amusement, I was seated next to the eminently talented and highly entertaining John Fund of the Wall Street Journal.

When it came time to order, I opened my menu to find a most curious item catch my eye: escargot. It was one of those things I had only referenced glibly as I tried to force feed some of our backyard "wildlife" to my little brother or experienced vicariously through characters in sitcoms or cartoons who made the dreadful mistake of ordering something they'd never heard of in a French restaurant.

(Editor's note: the finest example of escargot-related sitcom hijinx is the Steve Martin classic "The Jerk," and this reaction upon being confronted with the consequences of ordering something that sounded sophisticated:

"Waiter there are snails on her plate. Now get them out of here before she sees them! You would think that in a fancy restaurant at these prices you could keep the snails off the food! There are so many snails there you can't even see the food! Now take those away and bring us those melted cheese sandwich appetizers you talked me out of!?)

I don't know if I ever really believed that people actually ate snails willfully, but lo and behold, to my shock and amazement, there it was plainly on the menu. The infamous, French delicacy of epic proportions, escargot.

Not yet sure if I wanted to let on to the group that I wasn't accustomed to the finer side of life, I decided to be sly, and survey the dinner selections of some of my eating mates discretely. Ever so causally, I asked my companions what they were getting for their first course. The answers were the expected green salad, goat cheese salad, green salad, that is until the woman across from me answered "escargot." The horror!?! Someone I knew was actually going to be eating snails!?!

I turned to John Fund and nonchalantly mentioned that I'd never eaten escargot before. Then John Fund proceeded to start raving about the succulent buttery sweet snailness that is escargot, and said that I simply must try it! I started to wonder if I'd really been missing something. John Fund thought it utterly untenable that a person such as myself, having never had the privilege of eating snails, should be deprived of the experience. He assured me that if for some reason I did not thoroughly enjoy my snails, he would gladly eat them so they did not go to waste. I was like the kid on the Monday Afternoon Special on teen peer pressure, the woman across from me was doing it, John Fund does it all the time, it must not be all that bad right? right? So ... I ordered the snails.

When the plate containing my first course arrived, I was perplexed. I was given a little tiny fork, and a plate with seven small pools of garlic and butter. I was about to ask John Fund where the snails were when I observed the escargot lover across from me dip her baby fork into the butter pool and stir it around until she came out with a plump, juicy, butter-laden snail which she promptly popped in her mouth. She then proceeded to dip her bread in the leftover pool to soak up the remaining snaily marinade. I am of a strong constitution, and not to be outdone I followed suit. Grasping my fork, I picked my pool of conquest, groped with my fork and plucked out my unsuspecting prey. Staring at him for a moment, I had to once again question, what sick bastard decided it was a good idea to eat snails?

Nevertheless, I inserted the snail into my mouth and clamped down. The snail itself was of no consequence. Chewy but not rubbery, and bite sized. I could discern no flavor inherent to the snail, only the accompanying garlic and butter tantalized the tongue. Not gagging, but still not quite understanding the appeal, I took a stab at another. Chewy, but not rubbery, garlicky and buttery. Before I felt compelled to try a third, I finally realized the game, and gladly surrendered my remaining snails to Mr. Fund which he immensely enjoyed.

Despite the peer pressure, upon experiencing them myself, I?m forced to conclude the mystique of escargot is a myth. There is nothing inherently special about the gastronomical properties of the snail. The snail is simply the unsuspecting vessel satisfying the eaters' lust for garlic and butter.

Too prideful to admit the vice, the primary proponents of eating snails, the French, mask it by trying to convince the world that the real reason you eat the escargot is the delicate snail and not one?s craven thirst for sweet cream and pungent spices. And somehow, they've gotten the whole world to believe there is something really good about eating a snail when every natural instinct in the human psyche says you do not eat slimy, rubbery creatures with antennae that eat dirt and leave a slime trail wherever they go.

Speaking of slime trails, in the coming campaign, I expect the rhetoric of the Democratic Party to once again turn to the familiar class warfare pitting the poor against the rich in the epic battle over taxes and social welfare programs. The Democratic Party would have us believe there is something inherently good about the welfare state, that it is actually a good thing. Just like, you guessed it - the escargot. (Warning - extended metaphor approaching fast).

That the raw political power, the pool of garlic and butter, that comes from an entire class of people dependent on your political party being in power for their government subsidies is simply an unnecessary element that happens to accompany the tasty snail of government programs. But the truth of the matter is, the current social policy of the Democratic Party is destructive. It perpetuates a culture of entitlement and a victim mentality among the nation's poor, and does not elevate the lower classes like the principles of ingenuity, hard work, and initiative do. No matter what way you package it, we all know there's something wrong with eating snails, and we all know there is something wrong with people not taking personal responsibility for their lives and instead expecting the government to provide for them.

Democrats don't even care about elevating the plight of the nations poor. Their real lust is keeping their power base stable and completely dependent upon them and their big government. So when the rhetoric starts pouring in about the rich not paying their fair share and the need for more money for social programs, let's all remember today's object lesson. Escargot, is really just snails, doused in garlic and butter, Democrats promote class warfare to keep their power base stable and dependent for generations to come.

And John Fund? Though not deceived by the Democratic party, has bought into the Frenchies lie about eating snails hook, line, and sinker.

John Fund, sucker for the hype. Remember, you heard it here first.