Over in the US, a burger joint debuted a rather bold recipe: Tarantula. Suffice to say, some people lost the plot, but tomorrow might not be for them.
There’s an ancient joke, c. 2011 that speaks of the first world problem. For further learning, please consult your local meme museum. Front-and-centre to our cultural phenomenon is the insistence, of blergh I’m not eating that when presented with something on a stick that we’d usually swat.
Well, considering that we’re totally unable to keep it in our pants, the problems with sourcing alternative foodstuffs will soon become our reality, and I daresay, it’s our responsibility to be adults about it. Perhaps a zippy PR push? Insects…no longer just brunch for the weird kid who wants attention. Or, would you like a cup of cement with your grasshoppers?
Honestly, I’m not worried, as we’ll adapt. After all, we’re not that far removed from flinging shit at our shadows and dying at the ripe age of 35. Which brings me neatly to the streets of North Carolina. This week, they’ve decided to add yet more trend to an already trend menu, planting a crispy tarantula atop one of their burgers.
Martha did it yesterday, Randall did it today, and now it’s David D’s turn to give it a shot!
David D. ticket # 907656 give us a call and claim your tarantula burger. ️ pic.twitter.com/rZh5cvTHKB
— Bull City Burger (@BullCityBurger) 6 April 2018
According to the menu, the leggy accoutrement is lightly salted, oven baked and crunchy as all hell, with a taste varying between shellfish, metal and something you can’t quite put your finger on.
In response to the bold addition, Twitter recoiled at the offering with a flat refusal, pushing theoretic plates off metaphoric tables:
Ew super gross.
— christina catherine (@christinacath18) 12 April 2018
— jonlorusso (@jonlorusso) 12 April 2018
— Lauren E. Gerber (@Lauren_E_Gerber) 12 April 2018
I can never do this
— danielh646 (@danielh646) 12 April 2018
Which, fair enough. It’s your funeral. But for the rest of us, those with a firm eye on survival, we shall gleefully watch them perish.
And perhaps, turn them into a burger to sate our curiosity, and indeed, ourselves.