It's Snail Season, Baby!

Exploring the deeper cultural importance of "snail season" in Sevilla

The season of snails is upon us here in Sevilla. It usually starts around end of April and lasts until around middle of June. We’re right in the thick of it. The peak season, where almost every bar has caracoles, is now.

The smell of the classic caracoles broth wafts out of every local tapas bar as you walk by. The tables that litter the streets are decked out with little glass cups of caracoles as if it were edible Christmas decor. Everywhere you look people are grabbing little toothpicks and trying to fish the freshly cooked snail out of their tiny shell. Piles of empty snail shells accumulate on the ubiquitous white ceramic tapas plates.

Everything You Need to Know About Caracoles

The shells of these little snails is about the size of a dime, or if you’re into euros well a little smaller than a twenty cent coin.

The broth itself is comprised of bay leaves, cumin, black pepper, and garlic. Let’s be real, I don’t think there’s a single Spanish dish that doesn’t include garlic. Other variations on the broth can include cayenne, coriander and fennel. It’s not Spain if each person doesn’t have their own family recipe. But remember the recipe isn’t written down anywhere. Recipes are shared boca a boca, and each person has their own spin.

Caracoles are typically served in a small glass or on a tiny tapas plate. In true tapas fashion, sans silverware. All you need are your hands and some toothpicks! Ideally you slurp the entire snail out of the shell all at once, getting the taste of the broth along with it, but some snails are harder to slurp hence the toothpicks. There’s also a local trick where you break the top part of the shell in between your teeth to help get the snail out more easily.

Another entertaining part of caracoles culture in Sevilla is the signs you’ll find all throughout the city bars, “Hay Caracoles”. The best is when you find the chalkboard signs out in front of the tapas bars with little drawings of snails, no words needed. These signs are a magnet for locals, if your bar has caracoles then it’s likely that’s the bar everyone walking by will be eating at that night.

Caracoles Culture (Snail Culture)

Like most good things in Spain, caracoles are rooted in tradition and history, dating back as far as thousands of years ago. And in good Spanish tradition fashion, instead of exploiting the system (i.e. I like caracoles so we’ll make them available all year long to make more $$), Spanish people respect seasonality. Much like gazpacho is a summer dish, because that’s when tomatoes are ripest and it’s when it’s hot so a refreshing gazpacho makes sense. Or how they like to dress for the season, and not the weather.

While the idea of snails is likely to instill disgust in most people unfamiliar with the tradition, there’s an art to snail culture here in Sevilla if you’re willing to come out of your shell (ha, ha). It’s not just about snails, but socializing and celebrating tradition. Approached from that perspective, you might be surprised to find you like snails!

Admittedly it took me a full year in Spain before I dared to try them. I’ll never forget my friend Rafa’s animated face when he took me for my first caracoles. He was intoxicated by the very smells of the broth as we walked into the tapas bar, all smiles and excitement. I didn’t immediately go crazy them, I think Rafa was a little let down. My love for caracoles has certainly been a slow burn. But the experience reminds me of the “leave the windows open” mindset. Caracoles represent so much more than just eating snails. And if I’m living here then I’m here to be a part of the culture, not to say “ew” because something is foreign to me.

Now, like so many traditions here in Sevilla, this is a time of the year I look forward to. The week the first few bars started advertising caracoles, my Whatsapp groups lit up with messages of “quien se apunta a caracoles esta noche” (who wants to meet up for caracoles tonight).

Growing Up Surrounded by Tradition

As I was walking through my neighborhood this weekend I overheard an elderly grandpa say to his granddaughter, who must have been about 2 or 3 years old:

"Vamos ahora a tomar una cervecita y caracoles (We're going to go have a beer and some snails).”

It reminded me of the note I posted the other day about the dancing and singing going on at our friend’s birthday party, with all the kids running around. How special it must be to grow up embraced by the arms of sweet traditions. There’s a grounding nature to living these experiences, a familiarity with the reliability of these seasonal rituals that instill a deeper confidence in the ebbs and flows of life. And at the core of it all, the guideposts for life in Spain, connection and community.