Crickets for your holiday table?
Article by Edna Farmer
LONDON—Well, I’ve been hearing for a good long while that the future of haute cuisine is bugs, thanks to our enterprising European friends, who are never short of advice on what the rest of us should be doing, by golly.
They gave us delicacies like frogs’ legs and snails and who knows what else, which I have to tell you I could never abide. I put frog out for the Farmer family Thanksgiving once in the Nineties and I’m still hearing about it. Not nearly meaty enough, everyone said, not even close.
But as anyone reading this column knows, farming can be a tough slog. Adapt or die, that’s the watchword. Tobacco’s as dead as Darwin but we’re growing weed like there’s no tomorrow, thanks to that nice Mr. Trudeau. And since we’re making a killing, that’s called progress.
Now I don’t know exactly how we’re supposed to farm insects out here in apple-and-beef country. But now that some folks in London have built the world’s biggest cricket processing plant, we’re just going to have to grind new grist for the mill.
And grind is the key word here, because—as you’re likely wondering—all these zillions of insects are going to be converted into protein powder, rather than served on the hoof. That way, you won’t know you’re eating them, or feeding them to your goldfish, or your in-laws.
So I happened to be out to Earle’s farm down on Number 2 highway on the weekend picking up some steaks, and I asked him how farmers understand the difference between these newfangled crickets and old-fashioned cattle. And after pondering the matter intently for several minutes, he nailed it.
They’re smaller.
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