…That is what my kids told me yesterday when asking whether I could help them roast crickets and then dip them in chocolate. That is what I get for allowing them to read books about survival skills.
I have 9 crickets chilling, literally, in my fridge in preparation to roast them. Mmm hmm. I said I’m going to roast crickets. If you read yesterday’s post (and she smacks her forehead!) you will see how this all came about. I’m a little too disgusted with myself to go into the whole thing again. So the big debate is whether the boys should have them salty or, as Ty- the originator of the idea- suggests, dipped in dark chocolate. I don’t care.
I tried talking to my sister for moral support. She was no help. She was excited. I think she has latent hostility toward me for all those times I stuck my pointy elbow in her ribs.
Me (whining): “I can’t believe I promised Ty I would help him roast crickets.”
Jessie: “That’s awesome! I think I saw a children’s book about cooking with insects. Maybe you could get it from the library to reinforce the lesson.”
Me: “What lesson? The lesson that I shouldn’t ‘promise’ to roast crickets? I got that one down already.”
Jessie: “No. I mean it’s really neat! There are people all over the world who eat insects. This is a great lesson.”
Me: “Well then, why don’t you come over and help them and then you can eat some?”
Jessie: “I’m a vegetarian.”
Me: “Lame excuse.”
Not shockingly, none of my cookbooks had advice on how to do this. Survivorman skewered the live buggies and roasted them over an open flame. I’m not skewering live crickets. After googling, “How to roast crickets”, unsurprisingly the choices were few. Here’s the “recipe” I found. [Read more...]
