A little over a year ago, I was presented with a funny quandary. A couple of designers and I were hanging out in a backyard wondering how to make a cocktail that would highlight the flavor of crickets. Moonshine was a must.
Like so many other crickets, a Roesel’s bush cricket sings to attract his mate. But his courtship doesn’t stop once a female finds him. As they have sex he’ll use a pair of tiny drumsticks on his genitals to show her he’s the rhythm master she wants to father her young.
Bug-eating evangelists like to talk about how crickets are caloric magic, claiming the insects can transform table scraps into a crunchy, healthy protein. A new study debunks at least one aspect of what’s being touted everywhere as the food of the future.
Nitric oxide may be better known for turbo-charging snails, but rather than boosting aggressive behavior, this brain chemical deals crickets a healthy dose of fear, telling them when to throw the towel in and flee a fight.
If I had a truly sophisticated palate and open mind I wouldn't even blink when I read that there was cricket flour in my granola bar. But I am unrefined and simple. The idea of a cricket bar makes me simultaneously concerned and curious. For some reason I feel like "slow roasted and milled crickets" could be good.
The Pentagon is known for its ominous pet projects, but here's one we can honestly say doesn't have us losing any sleep: Cyborg crickets.
Mormon crickets are insects with multiple wives who live in Utah, travelling to Nevada to eat crops and play craps—or something like that. I'm not David Attenborough, ok? One real thing: They hate rock music.