Locusts on the Sabbath Table

Since the friends joining us for the Sabbath meal live primarily on Middle Eastern delicacies, a sudden impulse and a box of strictly kosher locusts were enlisted to create a dish. The goal was twofold: to fit harmoniously onto our traditional table while serving as a proper homage to our Yunnanese surroundings.

And so, eggplant and shan yao roots (Dioscorea polystachya) were roasted until tender, then crushed into a smooth puree with chopped mint, sesame oil, and white pepper. All these ingredients—especially the pepper, mint, and eggplant—are staples of Yunnanese cooking, echoing the roasting and serving styles famous in the villages of Xishuangbanna.

As a southern buffer zone that is effectively Thai in its culture, Xishuangbanna serves as a bridge between China's southernmost provinces and the verdant expanses of Laos and beyond. From the only Theravada temples in China to the architecture, language, climate, and the very scent of the markets, the region is historically and culturally tethered to the Southeast Asian sphere just across the border.

While the vegetables roasted slowly, the locusts were toasted in a hot wok, followed by a quick sear of garlic, ginger, and chili. Everything was then crushed together with fish sauce, lemon juice, and kaffir lime leaves. This spicy paste, similar to the condiments found throughout southern Yunnan and Southeast Asia, makes the most of available ingredients—both fresh and fermented—to create a nutritious dip that pairs perfectly with roasted fish, steamed rice, or fresh vegetables.

The contrast between the complex texture of the spicy locust dip and the delicate notes of the shan yao and eggplant puree was both satisfying and stimulating. I must admit that even for a dreadfully amateur cook like myself, my companions and I were quite pleased with the result—even if we were grateful for the familiar refuge of a spoonful of hummus and fava beans on the side.

It goes without saying that neither I nor my friends—Chinese and foreigners alike—were raised to eat land-dwelling insects. Yet their presence in local markets, coupled with their significant nutritional value, offers a welcome opportunity to experiment, break cultural barriers, and find a place for them in the kitchen, one way or another.