Great cooking/recipe photos in the link (no way I'd actually touch anything on that menu). I'll leave bug pics out of this post.For seven days, I only ate grasshoppers, worms, and tarantulas. It was absolutely awful.
By Angela Skujins https://archive.ph/YGqjo
(you're welcome SWMBO, if you've even read this far).
TLDR excerpts minus the sustainable planet politics and musings on ethical pitfalls:
Monday
My first meal taught me that crickets taste like dirt. I drank a cricket powder protein shake, which felt a bit like sand sliding down my throat. After drinking two mouthfuls of sludge, I threw the smoothie in the sink and went to work on an empty stomach, unsatisfied and hungry.
By lunch, I was starving and decided to tackle the bugs head-on. So I inundated a vegetable stir fry with maggots, similar to what Sackle had recommended. “They’re crunchy and they kind of taste like caramel popcorn,” he’d assured me. I pushed myself into eating as much as I could, but the tropical fly spawn ruined everything. I'd managed two bites before I burst into tears, alone in the staff room.
It suddenly occurred to me that I’d made a horrible mistake.
FWIW I don't how anyone can stomach spirulina at allWednesday
It had been 48 hours, and I was over it. The days were fused together by the ritual of working myself up to eating a buggy breakfast, then barely eating it, and being angry all day. I wasn’t plucky anymore. I was just furious.
I started my day with another protein smoothie. But this time I had two scoops of Greensect, which had spirulina and cinnamon in it. Again, I could only stomach half of it. Inevitably I got angry and wondered about what was stopping me from finishing the food? Why couldn’t I finish a simple goddamn smoothie? I’d been vegan for five years but couldn’t have a simple cricket shake?
TUESDAY's meal: If a 12 year old could eat bugs, why couldn’t I? So I beer-battered some tarantulas, and although the two fist-size arachnids were the most intimidating of the bug haul, their bodies were leathery and chewy and undeniably gourmet.
Thursday
Noma, a two-Michelin-star restaurant in Copenhagen, Denmark, famously serves lobster mains with live ants. So I tried the next best thing for breakfast: black ants and Vegemite smeared on toast. My housemate Brad had a slice and revered the taste, saying: “This is next level woke!" Watching Brad eat the ants gave me a little confidence in the meal.
I ate the whole meal and felt a tiny surge of pride. The diet was no longer about the quality of the bugs, but about how I could get them into my body. And they were finally in there...
Friday
By this point, I was having a really bad time. Some quotes from my food diary read: “I hate everyone,” and “I don’t want anyone to look at me or ask me why I’m eating these fucking things,” and, the worst of them: “I wish I was dead.” I felt suicidal and stupid, even though I was aware that it was just a simple lack of food. These manic episodes were just a byproduct of inadequate caloric consumption, but knowing that didn’t help.
Traumatized from the night before, I skipped breakfast and rode to work on my bike, and my vision began to fade. The ground slipped beneath me. I wasn’t consuming food and my body had gone into starvation mode: I was hallucinating. I kept seeing Studio Ghibli’s translucent clouds hovering above my bike’s handlebars...
Fast forward to the end of article..
...I flipped [banana bug] pancakes and thought about the past seven days. My conservative Greek grandparents didn’t understand the diet, and neither did my vegan dad. Actually, I wasn’t sure if I’d understood it myself, which I guess is why I hated the pancakes, as per usual.
While scraping them into the bin I remembered what Professor Van Huis said about bugs being disgusting: “It’s an absolute cultural bias,” he said. “But it’s just a matter of educating the public, and it’s important to make insects favorable for the common people.”
I hadn’t done that at all. But now I was sure that insects weren’t the future of food, I was only too happy to eat something antiquated, environmentally dubious, and delicious. Peanut butter on toast. No bugs.