Sitting cross-legged on the floor of a ryokan, my friend Celia and I stared down at the dish before us. We’d partaken in kaiseki, a traditional Japanese meal, many times previously, but had never once seen this item. At least 15 insects filled the small container, and we could see every last detail: the four small front legs, the two larger hind legs , the tiny black eyes, and the two wings that acted like a shell, striping the back of the insects. Their brownish color gave off an almost cockroach-like appearance. Reaching down, they felt crispy to the touch, clearly fried in various sauces. I could almost hear the uncomfortable crunch they’d make in my mouth. Despite the chef’s best efforts to mask their identity, they were unmistakable.
Celia’s eyes showed a reluctance that I’m sure mine reflected. There was no way we could eat these; they looked practically alive. But then we caught sight of the chef, an elderly Japanese man, watching from the kitchen. He sat, hoping to see satisfied faces and hear expressions of enjoyment. He’d been so sweet to us; we simply couldn’t let him down. Plus, to some degree, we’d actually wanted this. Well, maybe not exactly this — but something like it.
When planning our trip, Celia and I longed for a more immersive experience of Japanese culture than we could find in a museum or on a typical hike. We wanted a physical and intellectual adventure. Walking the Nakasendo Trail seemed like the way to do just that, and we were right. Our journey thus far had given us the experience we’d hoped for, the perfect mixture of everything Japan embodies…..
To read the piece in its entirety (and see exactly what we ate) check out the full article at Passion Passport.
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