A plague of dinner

So, here we are visiting our friends Tara and Kent in Los Angeles. The weather is balmy, the traffic is busy, and I weigh fifty pounds more than anyone else. Its kind of like being on Jupiter in the future.

Last night we went to dinner with our hosts, Kent's son Sam and his Mom Nicole. Tara said we had to try this restaurant at the Santa Monica airport because they have the best mojitos ever. What she didn't mention is that they also serve bugs. Yes, insects, which Ryan was all to eager to try. While the rest of us were happy with dumplings and spring rolls, he ordered a nice heaping plate of crickets.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Would it be like at a seafood restaurant where they let you pick your lobster? What kind of dipping sauce would go best with crickets? What arrived was actually little disappointing -- a heaping pile of potato straws -- that looked like they had been prepared in a very dirty kitchen. The crickets studding it looked like they were climbing a mighty potato mountain. I half expected to see one on top with a flag.

I'm what's for dinner.

I ate three of the crickets, which thankfully had been de-legged. I had to stop after that, not because I didn't enjoy eating something with a head -- but because they really weren't that good. Sam summed it up perfectly -- they tasted like the inside skin of a peanut -- you know, the part you throw away. Ryan ate several more, I think mostly to gross out Tara, and Sam used most of his serving trying to get them into Tara's dinner so we would accidentally eat one. So, while they weren't a culinary success, they were definitely entertaining.

I bet the scorpions were much, much better.