Mexico City - The San Juan market is Mexico City's
most famous deli of exotic meats, where an adventurous shopper can hunt
down hard-to-find critters like
ostrich, wild boar and crocodile. Only
the city zoo offers greater species diversity.
But the priciest items in the market aren't the
armadillo steaks or even the bluefin tuna.
That would be the
frozen chicatanas - giant winged ants - at around $225 a pound.
Apparently, they're
delicious in salsa.
"Much
better than the junk food they sell in supermarkets," said vendor
Benjamin Rodriguez, showing off his
ant stash beside trays of
crispy
fried crickets and live snails.
"All natural," he said with a wry grin.
Rodriguez
and the other bug mongers of San Juan offer their wares as
"
pre-Hispanic" foods, a nod to the
Aztecs, Mixtecs and other
civilizations that flourished for millennia here on diets rich in
grubs,
grasshoppers and other edible invertebrates.
Insect-eating
was long regarded with shame and disgust by elite Mexicans who viewed
the practice as a vestige of rural backwardness. But bugs have crawled
onto the menus of some of the country's most celebrated eateries in
recent years, as top chefs seek out esoteric regional ingredients for
cuisine known as "
alta mexicana" (high-end Mexican).
"These
are foods that were eaten in pre-Hispanic times because there wasn't
meat, but now they're seen as luxurious," said Lesley Tellez, a food
writer who leads tours of Mexico's markets and kitchens.
"It's
part of a larger trend of bringing traditional Mexican elements back to
the table and giving them the value they deserve," she said.
Mexico
has some
300 to 550 species of edible insects, more than any country in
the world, according to the U.N. Food and Agriculture Organization,
which issued a 200-page report this year in praise of entomophagy -
insect-eating - as a promising source of sustainable protein.
"The
case needs to be made to consumers that eating insects is not only good
for their health, it is good for the planet," the FAO report read.
The tiny comestibles are very high in protein, it noted, especially compared to meats like beef and pork.
In the poor, rural communities, families have been eating insects for generations as tradition, but also out of necessity.
"We ate them because we were hungry," said Mario Rendon, a bug supplier at the San Juan market.
Now,
among the most treasured delicacies are
escamoles (ant larvae),
cumiles
(stink bugs) and
ahuatle (water bug eggs), dubbed "Mexican caviar."
The
stink bugs are typically eaten live and are prized for their powerful
anise-like flavor and cinnamon finish. Put on a plate or inside a
tortilla, they don't exactly sit still.
"Eating
them in a taco can be a little weird," said Mexico City restaurant
manager Eduardo Lucero. "They sorta escape into your mouth when you bite
down."
Lucero's restaurant, Corazon de
Maguey, offers a seasonal menu in the spring with seven types of insects
and has organized
mezcal-and-bug festivals to wash the critters down
with doses of the strong, agave-derived liquor.
"All the insects sell really well," he said.
But since supplies are irregular, and prices high, they remain mostly a delicacy item in Mexico City restaurants.
One
exception: the ubiquitous and widely affordable
chapulines -
grasshoppers or crickets - that are typically sautéed in salt and garlic
and rolled in tacos or gobbled by the handful.
"Kids
love them," said Ricardo Castañeda, a vendor at the San Juan market who
sells three types of the insects: adults, juveniles and a version fried
in garlic and olive oil.
"They walk by my stall and tell their parents: 'I want some!'"
Castañeda offered a sample. It was crunchy and a bit hollow, almost like eating a bland wafer. With legs.
Though
crickets remain abundant in Mexico, other wild-caught insect species
have grown more scarce with their growing popularity, and their
escalating prices have further accelerated their decline.
In
Mexico's Hidalgo state, cradle of the highly prized
escamol (ant
larvae), nests are routinely destroyed by collectors who leave the
colonies exposed to the elements after harvesting the larvae, said
escamol entrepreneur Armando Soria.
Soria
launched an experiment two years ago, attempting to farm the larvae by
transplanting nests and providing abundant food sources for the ants.
His harvests have been modest so far, but he says he plans to expand.
"People have a reticence to eating insects," he said. "It's like a mental allergy."
"But
they offer delicious flavors," Soria insisted. "They're a solution to
so many problems. They don't need tractors or irrigation. Just people
willing to give them a try."