When I awoke, Harlem was shaking.
Although, I suppose it never stopped, I simply managed to ignore the rattling cars long enough to sleep. The light of dawn illuminated the milk plant on the horizion, bringing it to a white wash glisten among the hazy aftermath. It all felt like sleeping in a pasture, inhabited by drunks instead of cows.
We meandered to the sleepy westcoast town of Hokitika late last night, after crossing 22 one way bridges on the beautiful West-coast highway. Driving into town we had to brake for a heard of drunken teenagers, guess I missed the road sign on that one. Welcome to Hokitika, home of the annual “Wild Food Festival”. One I mistakenly thought had something to do with forged or organic food, in reality, its about consuming the most bizarre food you can find. Oh, and drinking (surprise for us), tons of drinking. Did I mention that it is also a “fancy dress” festival, meaning nearly everyone donned hilarious, if not somewhat unintentionally ironic, drunken costumes. I expected organic food and grandmas, but I got crazy food and gaggles of train wreaked Madonnas. It all made for an interesting weekend.
No costumes. No shenanigans. No puking on myself. We where here for the food, or should I say bugs (click here for previous times linzays consumed bugs). Its not a fruit, but we usually dont cover bug consumption on B&S, so as far as we’re concerned it is a fruit and here is the review:
The guy who was cutting them out of the wood promised they where: A) Fresh. B)Taste like peanut butter. C) Could have a little of a sawdust finish. He had me at peanut butter.
It was the first stall we saw as we ventured through the gates. A group of sunburned teenagers, hacked at a mountain of dry wood, taking their HuHu prisoners to the big guy with the plate. “Two dollars” he yelled!Bargin.
I would be lying if I said I wasnt thinking of Lion King style grubs as I grabbed the least wriggly specimen on the plate. It was plump to the touch but didnt go crazy when I picked him up. This one had accepted his fate. So, I popped him “down the hatch” and chewed as fast as I could for two reasons: One, that is what they do on Fear Factor when they eat alive stuff. Two, I realized that this guy could chew through wood. I didnt want to open myself up to a surprise attack.
Pop. It exploded like a big grape, and by doing so maintained the promise of the honest salesman.I didnt really get a “full on” peanut butter vibe, but I did get a little sawdust taste. I think of reincarnation and what these guys must have done to end up here, at the fair and in my mouth. Probably bankers. Suddenly, I get a sense of devine cosmic justice, which heightens the flavor experience.
After a long sun soaked day of eating grasshoppers, Hu Hu’s, Kava, Kangaroo and various other oddities, we trolled back to our Harlem Shake soaked campsite. Fred Flintstone is passed out and we saw a cow girl barf in her own hands. It must have been one too many sheep testicles. Glad I skipped those.