The Fork & Trowel

The Original Paleo Diet: A Culinary Journey Into Entomophagy

“The kids are just growing like weeds,” she exclaimed to her best friend Marge, who nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Well, I’m sure it has a lot to do with your fabulous cooking,” Marge replied. “Why, thank you! I thought I’d whip up a batch of Hormigas culonas.” “The kids just scarf that right up!”

“Hormigas culonas?” Marge asked, her brows furrowing in intrigue.

“It’s easy, really! First, you get a pound of large-bottomed ants, Atta laevigata, and toast them alive at about 350 degrees. A sprinkle of salt, and voilà! The kids absolutely love them!”

Yuck! There, I said it for you. What delights one group may horrify another. If I’m being honest, your local grocery store in the United States isn’t exactly stocking large-bottomed ants. And despite having a 10-cent-off coupon, I fear it wouldn’t sway my dining options.

Yet, ants and other insects seem to dance on the plates in various corners of the globe. In India, a paste made from the green weaver ant, Oecophylla smaragdina, serves as a beloved condiment alongside rich curries. In Thailand, the adventurous can enjoy a salad of yam khai mot daeng, which features not just any red ants, but their delicate eggs! Just to clarify, we’re discussing ant eggs—delicate morsels, not red ants tossed atop chicken.

In North Queensland, the locals sip on a blend of mashed ants that bears a striking resemblance to lemonade. “Another Lemonade Crusher, please!” becomes the chant of those embracing adventure in a cup.

Culture plays a monumental role in determining what we consider edible. For those raised in entomophagic societies—where insects are part of daily meals—nibbling on salted big-butt ants alongside a frothy beer is as commonplace as a chips-and-dip spread at a barbecue. Contrast that with a typical American who may squirm at the thought of bringing insects to the dinner plate.

From a scientific standpoint, the reluctance to embrace insects as food is perplexing. Around 1,500 identified species of edible insects exist globally; this staggering number is but a drop in the ocean compared to the 10 quintillion (10,000,000,000,000,000,000) insects residing with us on Earth. That’s about 300 pounds of insects for every pound of human! Imagine having 200 million insects all to yourself—perhaps they could find a cozy home in the spare bedroom, avoiding any disturbance to your duvet.

Given this abundance, it’s no revelation that insects can—and should—be part of our diets. High in protein, certain grasshoppers known as chapulines can boast an impressive 77.13% protein content. In contrast, beef weighs in at only around 44% protein. Furthermore, the fat profiles of insects are telling: the palm weevil (Rhynchophorus palmarum) shines with a remarkable 69.78% fat content. And while Bessie the Moo is commendable, she’s trailing with a modest 25%. The unsaturated fatty acids found in insects, particularly the polyunsaturated fatty acids, exceed those found in both fish and poultry, marking them as the “good guys.”

As if that weren’t enough, the iron content of insects is striking—palm weevils yield an astonishing 31–77 mg of iron per 100 mg, overtaking the mere 6 mg found in 100 mg of beef. For those unwilling to savor palm weevil delights, the dried soldier fly maggots offer 42% protein and 35% fat, joining the ranks of nutritious alternatives.

But what, dare I ask, has cultivated a “bug-a-boo” about eating insects in America? We consume shrimp, crab, and lobster without a backward glance, yet insects, often strikingly similar in form and function, remain taboo. If you examine a lobster closely, it embodies the essence of a large, red bug. Certainly, we enjoy escargot, but only when smothered in garlicky butter, as if we need the olfactory camouflage to tolerate their slime.

Is it because, as children, we are taught to fear the crawling nuisances? We learn that insects can carry disease, sting, bite, and frighten. Witness the utter dismay when an unwelcome bug meanders into a room—the ensuing clamor for makeshift weapons to exorcise the intruder is almost comical. Few pause to consider whether that pest might be fit for dinner; hence the war against these creatures rages on.