Don’t put bugs in my food, I’m good.
There was a kid in the neighborhood I grew up in named Dovey.
Not sure what his formal name was, but Dovey is what everyone, including his mother, called him.
And Dovey was always ready to eat a bug for a quarter.
His family was dirt poor, and this was an ice cream truck neighborhood.
But with money being tight, Dovey’s mom never had spare change to waste.
So Dovey figured out how to make money.
This is back before selling drugs or teen prostitution existed, at least in this section of town.
And, being the rotten little kids we were, my cousin and I would scour the neighborhood back yards, looking for disgusting wigglers for Dovey to eat.
And, no matter what we found, no matter how disgusting, Dovey would eat it.
Gross, yes, but Dovey and his brother always had ice cream when the ice cream man came by.
That was the epitome of “Do whatcha gotta do.”
Fast forward to today.
I am sitting in possibly the nicest Mexican restaurant I have ever been in with a friend, having dinner.
I wasn’t that hungry, so I just ordered an appetizer.
There is currently a made up celebration of the Guacamole Festival.
It is one of the things we do in the states in order to have an excuse to pimp something.
So I got a variety sampler of guacamoles from all around Mexico.
I will admit to having had a few cocktails.
When my appetizer arrived, nothing looked out of place.
The waiter pointed at each sample of guac and gave a little info on where in Mexico you can get it.
Then he got to one that he called Sur.
Garnished with a deep fried grasshopper.
I don’t really care what ingredients were in it beyond that.
Deep fried grasshopper paints a fairly vile mental picture.
And the problem is when you get to the word “Grasshopper”.
The phrase “Deep Fried”.
That is a comforting phrase that puts the mind at ease and make the salivary glands start warming up.
I have always said, I will try anything once.
And I had been drinking.
And, the lady at the table dared me.
Sexist, but true.
All of these things combined made me put one in my mouth and chew.
Nothing to write home about, to be sure.
But, not the worst thing I have ever eaten.
Now, if the grasshopper had moved, there is a good chance I would have shit myself.
The guacamoles, by the way, were awesome.
Food and drinks are an odd thing.
They used to be the afterthought.
Guacamole was simply a side dish.
Now, it is a culinary art form.
Same with Tequila.
Tequila used to be one of those drinks you guzzled when getting trashed was your objective.
Now, people have Tequila tasting parties and treat them like fine wines.
They cost as much as fine wines, too.
But nobody ever went to Tijuana, drink a whole bottle of a fine merlot and woke up with a black eye, a fresh tattoo, and possibly married to a Tijuana stripper.