A Garlic-scented Memory

I woke, this morning, thinking about snails.

I thought about the times I’ve eaten them—their garlicky aroma, dipping torn bits of baguette in the savory melted butter, the hollow sound their shells make after you pry the little morsel of land-locked seafood from its helical home. I thought about making them—if I can even find a place that sells them. I t…