Curious Cuisine

For those of you that don’t know, I love to eat! With that being said, I am also in a constant state of hunger. My family has referred to my eating habits as “grazing,” similar to that of a cow grazing in a field. Holidays are my favorite because I am constantly surrounded by food. In fact, I am quite the disappointment at the dinner table because I barely eat. But sure enough, as soon as the dishes are cleared from the table, I am in the kitchen looking for more to eat. Well, I couldn’t’ have found a better culture to be apart of because the Thai people love to eat as well. I thought I could put back some food, but I have met Thai people half my size who have been able to put away more food than a family at the Old Country Buffet. The Thai culture also likes to share their food. Anytime a Thai teacher comes into work with food, they always bring enough to pass around to the other teachers. Most of them enjoy telling us the name of the food in Thai, and then try to explain it in English. Most often, this sharing of food is very pleasant. It broadens my horizons on Thai culture, as well as scores me the occasional free meal for the day. I am almost always a willing participant – that was, until this fateful Monday morning.

Arriving to school on Monday morning, I was anxious to begin the day. Normally, I’m not one to look forward to a Monday morning, but the following day was the Queen’s Birthday. God save the Queen and all that patriotic hoopla. What I was really looking forward to was the day off of school. I came in prepared to have very few students come to class, and those who did show up would be entertained with a movie – The Incredibles perhaps? I was still unsure where my curriculum would lead me at 7:45AM that morning, but what was more surprising was where my appetite led me.

The teachers share a refrigerator which is located in our office. In the morning, the Thai teachers will undoubtedly come and place their food in the fridge. Or, if they have food to share, they will set it on top of the fridge for all to enjoy – including the ants. Today was no different. One of the Thai teachers came in with her lunch. I’m still unsure how the conversation started because I was engrossed in an email at the time, but as I glanced up I have one of the Thai teachers standing next to me with her lunch in a Tupperware container. Not entirely sure what I missed out on, a fellow English teacher tells me to check out what’s she packing for lunch. She slowly slid the lid back, like a little kid who just caught a fire fly and doesn’t want it to fly away. There amid a bed of white rice and vegetables lies the main course of her lunch – fried grasshoppers! She smiled and offered me one. I glanced up with a smile that was trying to hide my repugnant look of shock. Pinned at my desk between the Thai teacher on one side, and a brick wall on the other, I am trapped like a moth in a jar. I glance over to my English colleague who is just smiling at me; enjoying every moment of my pain. In an attempt to shift the focus, I strategically asked my colleague if he’s tried one. However, my ruse didn’t work, as she remained standing there with the container.

At first I respectfully declined by saying, “No thank you, I already had breakfast this morning.” She smiled, closed her Tupperware container and walked away like it was a precious chemical that can’t be shaken or stirred by too much movement. Still smiling, my fellow English faculty member said, “Hey Josh, I’ll try one if you try one.” The Thai teacher spun around on her toes with the speed and accuracy of an Olympic gymnast about to continue with the rest of her routine. You should have seen her face; a bright smile, eyes sparkling, holding the Tupperware container out like a peace offering to the Gods. Not wanting to crush her spirits I agreed to this arrangement with my fellow English teacher. I grabbed the bottle of water from my desk and proceed to walk the length of the room like a man on death row. Now, the Thai teacher has the Tupperware container fully open and I have the choice of which hopper I’d like to consumer. There they were, all staring up at me with their shinny black eyes, and their bodies frozen in their own deep fried shell. I reached in for my grasshopper of choice and plucked him off his bed of rice. At this point, I was standing near the exit of the office with my mid-morning snack and a full bottle of water. The water – in case I needed to quickly get the taste, texture or tentacles out of my mouth. Standing near the exit – in case it turns out that more than just the grasshopper isn’t settling so well and I can rush to the toilet as fast as my flip-flopped feet will carry me.

The next thing I know, I am bringing the grasshopper up to my mouth. The entire time I am maintaining eye contact with him, right up to the point of him being subjected to the dark cavern of my puss. It is then that I began the first step of the digestion process – chewing!

Immediately, I was pleasantly surprised by the use of spices to garnish the little bugger. Using my molars, I chomped down on it with the ferocity of a dog chewing on a bone. Initially, I was expecting there to be a pop of liquid, like when you bite down on a Gushers fruit snack, or a seedless grape. To my surprise, this did not occur. The next thing I notice is the taste. The little bugger has been garnished with spices galore – similar to when you make pumpkin seeds with a Martha Stewart receipie. As I continued chewing, I am surprised by the texture. Oddly enough, the only thing I could compare this experience to is movie theatre popcorn. But instead of being the white fluffy part, imagine the shell that the kernel is initially incased in, prior to the popping process. That’s sort of the way the entire thing tasted. Like when you get to the last of the popcorn and all that’s left is the kernels that lacked the will to fully pop. I finished chewing and swallowed without so much as a drop of water to lubricate the throat, let alone a mad dash to the toilet for immediate purging.

The Thai teacher soon packed away her lunch in the fridge, and I was left to contemplate the whole experience. After I finished picking the tentacles from my teeth, I couldn’t help but wonder what the grasshopper would taste like with a little bit of chocolate sauce, or even some ranch dressing. It made me begin to reconsider those people who ate the cicada every 17 years. Maybe I’ll take up a new tradition of deep frying them for my Memorial Day party back in the states! A veggie platter complete with baby carrots, sliced cucumbers, broccoli, and cicada all centered around a bowl of Hidden Valley Ranch. And they say I can’t cook – Bon Appetite!