OrionRevolution says: Still not sure if I'd try this...espescially with the "nettle tips" she has in there. As well if you are going to be adventurous I am not gauranteeing in any way that these will not give you gut wrench or even be bad for you, so please take care to research any shell markings etc on trusted scientific sites until you are satisfied that your "yard supper" wont harm you.

As well this doesn't seem exactly the same as the one in my article or pictures.


OrionRevolution says: Below is an article by Karyn Gray which hits a topic that I love to Talk about since, in my opinion, Art is in fact not always in the eye of the beholder. We can talk about it in another article on another day.


Unwanted snails cooked by gardener


A gardener who found her garden had been invaded by snails has devised recipes for cooking and eating them.

By Richard Savill

Oriole Parker-Rhodes, 59, a grandmother, has begun making meals out of the snails she has found in her garden and has set up an internet blog with her recipes and tips, and information on keeping and breeding them.
"Last summer it was really wet and warm, ideal for snails," she said. "I was treading on them and they were also eating our home-grown potatoes."Her visitors to her home in Anglesey were mainly the garden snail, Helix Aspersa, which came to Britain with the Romans, who liked to eat them.

Miss Parker-Rhodes said she had eaten weeds including sorrel and nettles for years, because they were nutritious, they had flavour, they were "free", and she enjoyed picking them.Eating snails was also "part of living with nature", she said, adding that in the present economic climate people could benefit from following her example."I was brought up to be interested in nature," said Miss Parker-Rhodes, whose mother was a birdwatcher, and her father a mycologist. Her companion is an entomologist studying insects.

She has developed her own cooking preparation methods, which involve giving the snails a home for about a week in an enclosed space, such as a bucket covered by a pair of tights.She gives them food and water, including lettuce, onion, stale bread and bran, a process designed to clear out any grit in their guts.The snails are then purged, which means they have no water or food for 48 hours, so their guts empty.

To kill the gastropods, they must be right inside their shells, she says, and then plunged into boiling water for five minutes.Mrs Parker-Rhodes, who was recently interviewed by John Sargeant on the BBC programme, the One Show, said she takes them out of their shells, washes them and boils them again in stock for about an hour until the snails become tender.

She said restaurants usually serve six per plate as an hors d'oevre but her meals consist of 12 with salad, garlic, parsley or butter sauce and bread.
She said: "They are perfectly good meat. They are very high in protein and low in fat; in some ways, they are better than beef."

For Miss Parker-Rhodes's blog click onto http://eatinggerdensnails.blogspot.com/

Using a good book, collect seasonal weeds. Wash and chop finely, then
Blanch for 5 mins the wild herbs you can lay your hands on.
I used the following:

Water parsnip
Wild sorrel
Water cress
Nettle tips
A little ribwort plantain.
Sieve , pressing out the water.
Finely chopped ramsons
(if in season, otherwise use onion or garlic with the blanched herbs)
Add all these to melted butter.
Put a snail in each hollow of a snail plate and add as much paste as possible.
Bake for 20 mins.
Serve with cubes of bread and salad.

By Richard Savill


Imaginary Foundation
“Charlie’s Angels Meets Deep Pattern Structures.”

By Karyn Gray
Originally published in the Beautiful/Decay Magazine Anthology

I once had a huge debate with someone over whether art could still be considered art if it had been locked in a drawer and never viewed by anyone. In order to be considered art, doesn’t the work have to convey a message or evoke an emotion in a participating audience? It has to be seen and perceived by others. The more people, the more of a reaction it will have stirred up. There was a man named Duchamp who once created a highly celebrated Mona Lisa donning a mustache and goatee; surely, if he had kept the work locked in his attic for all time, its impact would have been less than amazing. As the story goes, though, this and many other Dadaist works became hugely popular, as they attacked conventional standards of aesthetics and behavior. The point of all this nonsense was appropriately to be, what was commonly considered, nonsensical. Or as Dadaists would assert, “It's not Dada that is nonsense--but the essence of our age that is nonsense.” The founder of Dadaism, Tristan Tzara, decreed that it’s human perception and consciousness that creates this reality; nothing is set in stone. Imagination fathered the world, Dadaism fathered Surrealism, and Tzara fathered a man who has become a legend in his own right. This man, The Director, as people refer to him, founded the Imaginary Foundation.

It’s funny that brilliant minds so often feel the need to shut themselves up with other intellectuals and moan about how the common folk don’t “get” things. They brainstorm and philosophize, and write essays that are published in journals that hardly anyone will ever see or care about. If they’re so smart, how is it that they never bother to spread their ideas effectively? I bet there are a million people in the world who know who Marshall McLuhan is, not because they read about the “Global Village” at their local library, but because they remember his conversation with Woody Allen in the film, Annie Hall. Cleverly, The Director and his Imaginary Foundation not only acknowledge the existence of pop-culture in society, but also embrace it as a means of spreading visionary ideas.

The Director is a 70-something-year-old super intellectual who realized that imagination is fundamental to all learning. Individuals should shy away from convention, and turn instead to the abstract and innovational. This idea led him to present his doctoral thesis in the Department of Theoretical Art at the University of Sankore entitled “Deep Pattern Structures: Consciousness and the Articulation of the Possible” in 1951. I have never read it. I, along with the majority of my peers, probably never will. But unlike the majority of oximoronically obtuse super-intellectuals, The Director realized that that would likely be the case. Using his dissertation as the basis, The Director formally established the Imaginary Foundation in Geneva in 1973 with a team of academics in order to do research on new ways of thinking and the power of imagination. In order to spread ideas and appeal to people’s interests, it’s necessary to find a transmitter, an effective medium. The crew chose streetwear as their unconventional channel for catipulting their ideas from the academic realm into popular culture. Like McLuhan’s cameo in Annie Hall, The Director’s clothing line has earned him a distinct presence in youth culture. In fact, when asked in a rare interview if he ever felt like the message is lost in the fashion business, he replied, “My dear friend Marshall McLuhan said, “The medium is the message.” Perhaps in the case of the Imaginary Foundation, “the medium (or the XL) is the message.”

Though he and his team are indisputably brilliant, they aren’t designers. I would have loved to read the e-mail that this group of Swiss philosophers sent to designer, Nick Philips, a few years back asking him to create some t-shirts incorporating their abstractions. It must have raised an eyebrow. Nevertheless, Philips jumped on board. To this day, he has almost no personal contact with the mysterious, Charles Townsend-like foundation founder aside from e-mails, but their collaborative efforts have resulted in not only amazing t-shirts, but also a transmission of visionary ideas to youth everywhere.

And so it goes that Dadaism fathered Surrealism, Tzara fathered The Director, and now the Imaginary Foundation has fathered the broadening of people’s mental horizons, both within the academic world and outside of it. We create this reality that we live in; it’s a collective consciousness. Instead of being limited by old models and obsolete knowledge, we can use our imaginations to create the kind of world that we envision.

Looking back on my debate on whether unseen art is still art, it’s interesting to consider how The Director might respond. Maybe he’d say that if one imagines something to be art, then it is. Or maybe he wouldn’t say anything. After all, who would listen to a secretive, Swiss, septuagenarian philosopher anyway? He’d probably make a shirt of it.
- Karyn Gray