One man's meat is another man's poison

People become quite illogical when they try to decide what can be eaten and what cannot be eaten.

If you lived in the Mediterranean, for instance, you would consider octopus a great delicacy.

You would not be able to understand why some people find it repulsive.

On the other hand, your stomach would turn at the idea of frying potatoes in animal fat — the normally accepted practice in many northern countries.

The sad truth is that most of us have been brought up to eat certain foods and we stick to them all our lives.

No creature has received more praise and abuse than the common garden snail.

Cooked in wine, snails are a great luxury in various parts of the world.

There are countless people who, ever since their early years, have learned to associate snails with food.

My friend, Robert, lives in a country where snails are despised.

As his flat is in a large town, he has no garden of his own.

For years he has been asking me to collect snails from my garden and take them to him.

The idea never appealed to me very much, but one day, after a heavy shower, I happened to be walking in my garden when I noticed a huge number of snails taking a stroll on some of my prize plants.

Acting on a sudden impulse, I collected several dozen, put them in a paper bag, and took them to Robert.

Robert was delighted to see me and equally pleased with my little gift.

I left the bag in the hall and Robert and I went into the living room where we talked for a couple of hours.

I had forgotten all about the snails when Robert suddenly said that I must stay to dinner.

Snails would, of course, be the main dish.

I did not fancy the idea and I reluctantly followed Robert out of the room.

To our dismay, we saw that there were snails everywhere: they had escaped from the paper bag and had taken complete possession of the hall!

I have never been able to look at a snail since then.