From Law Enforcement to Slime Trails: Manjimup's Unusual Career Shift
It’s not every day you hear about police officers swapping sirens for snails, but that’s what's happening in Manjimup, Western Australia. Two retired officers ditched their law enforcement careers, boots and all, for the muddy (and surprisingly lucrative) world of snail farming. This is not your average midlife career swerve, and their journey is turning Manjimup into a quirky hotspot for fine dining enthusiasts—and regionally grown escargot.
It all started when one of the ex-cops caught a food documentary late at night and realized a gap in Australia’s local gourmet market. Imported snails dominate the plates of most restaurants. Why couldn’t Manjimup, a region already celebrated for its black truffles and fresh produce, become home to world-class snails?
The Grit Behind the Glamour: Breaking into Snail Farming
Snail farming—or heliciculture—might sound easy, but it comes with a bucket of curveballs. The duo realized early on that it’s not just about throwing a bunch of snails into a moist field. They had to research breeds, experiment with diets, and design snail-friendly enclosures to mimic their ideal environment. The climate in Manjimup gave them a head start, as the cool, damp air is just what snails love.
Getting started brought its headaches. There were permits to wrangle, health standards to meet, and plenty of local skepticism. Who’d have guessed that two former police officers would spend nights building miniature fences to keep their slippery stock from escaping? Yet, over time, they cracked the code—balancing humidity, managing pests, and perfecting feed blends.
Then came the task of carving out a niche in the gourmet market. Their first harvests were small and mostly sold to local restaurants. Chefs loved the fresh snails, especially when compared to frozen imports that had spent weeks in transit. Word spread, and soon, foodies from Perth and beyond came knocking, eager for that taste-of-France vibe, right from Australian soil.
They didn’t stop at restaurants, either. By packaging fresh and preserved escargot for specialty shops, they reached customers who had only ever seen snails on European menus. Cooking classes, farm tours, and “snail tastings” added another stream of revenue and helped demystify escargot for curious locals.
Talking to chefs, the ex-police officers have heard it all—calls for snails packed in garlic butter, requests for sustainable and low-impact farming, and even sponsorships for food festivals. The learning curve was steep, but their experience as police officers—attention to detail, patience, and sticking to procedures—turned out to be the secret ingredient.
So how is business now? The farm has grown, with more snails and bigger orders every season. They’re even considering franchising the idea to other tree changers. Manjimup’s name is now making rounds in culinary circles, not just as a truffle capital, but also for some of the freshest escargot this side of the globe. Next time you see snails on a fancy menu, there’s a fair chance they came from a couple of ex-cops who decided to go slow—really slow—for a living.
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