Hungry? Why Wait? It’s Locust Season!

“They’re delicious,” insists my coworker Kathy, shoving a handful of golden frittered insects under my nose. “Try one.”

The two-inch locusts look like skinny shrimp, complete with tiny black eyeballs and two antennae pointing out. It’s locust season, and sales on these treats are up. I’ve seen the boys selling them in plastic buckets all over the streets of Kabalagala, neighborhood of cheap pork and cheaper prostitutes. Considered a delicacy in Uganda, these are the same things that fly in droves and hurl their little bodies into candle flames at night. Usually my approach is to smack them with a book.

But I’m curious too, and I think—why the hell not? So my friend Sarah (fellow ex-pat in the office) and I decide to go for it together. As we lower a locust each into our unwilling mouths, we catch each other’s eyes and see our own disgust reflected. Are we seriously about to eat a bug the size of our middle toes?

Drop! Goes the locust. Crunch! Goes the bite. And…I’m surprised. It doesn’t taste remotely like bug—just butter and salt. Crispy yet satisfying (Pumba was right!). Of course, after a few minutes, the grossness of the thing that I’ve just swallowed hits me, and I’m ready for a glass of water and a stick of gum. I can’t say I would enjoy a bowl of buttery, salty locusts like I would a bowl of buttery, salty popcorn—but if offered another tasty tidbit, I probably wouldn’t refuse.