Snacking On Locusts

Wandering around the night market in Sukhothai we found ourselves next to a stall offering trays of various insects; locusts, big black beetles and grubs of various size and colour. These stalls are everywhere in Asia, a continent where the squeamish approach to food is not widely known.

I had never considered for a moment that I could eat one of these things, but Glen’s curiosity was getting through to him, and on the understanding that I would photograph the experiment but not indulge, we set about choosing a selection of the least unappetising.

In a mixture of bad Thai and sign language we ordered a small pick and mix selection and stood back as the bug seller scooped our choices into a sizzling wok, stirred them around for a few seconds, said something incomprehensible and shook what looked like a spoon of soot over the golden fried delicacies.

In authentic backpacker style I bought a pineapple shake and a bottle of water, settled back and watched Glen psyche himself up to go tackle the plate of insects.
‘Those grubs look like cheesey snacks’ he said, in what sounded like an immense effort to convince himself.
I sipped my shake, smiled at two girls on the next table and waited for him to go for it.

When he finally took the plunge it was with the determination to get it over with as quickly as possible. First in was a long thin grub that had been fried enough to resemble a twiglet.
‘Not bad’ said Glen,’ didn’t really taste of anything’.

He quickly munched his way through three differently shaped grubs, and then went for the locust. I heard the crunch as he bit into it, and his face definitely became a shade or two paler, but he carried on until he had sampled one each of the different insects. Another round of pineapple shakes helped to settle his stomach whilst he talked about the differences between the grubs and the flying things. It seemed that the locusts, beetles and what can only be described as soft fried moths were all, as expected, absolutely disgusting.

‘The grubs on the other hand’, Glen declared, ‘not only look like the kind of savoury snack that come in brightly coloured sealed bags, but taste a lot like them too’.

I obviously looked as though my attitude had mellowed, because Glen pointed at what looked just like a deep fried maggot, and informed me that if he had to choose one, then that beauty there was the tastiest, most edibly suited to western tastes, and in fact, pretty damn good.

I had spent the previous four months traveling around Asia open minded and curious about anything different that I came across, and my own curiosity, helped by Glen’s glowing report, led to the inevitable.

I picked up the smallest of these allegedly tasty morsels, put it in my mouth and bit into it. A wave of nausea spread over me as the most unpleasant combination of texture and stomach churningly awful taste filled my mouth. This was closely followed by my involuntarily leaning into the gutter, spitting out the vile tasting debris, but thankfully, somehow managing to retain ownership of the pineapple shakes.

Glen of course was in hysterics.
‘I thought I was going to throw up with each one of those bastards’ he roared.
‘But I knew I had to make it look good to get you to try one as well’.