So, everyone’s been talking about Zompopo de Mayo again. It’s that time of year, right? I figured, why not dive in myself and see what all the fuss is about, or rather, revisit the fuss. I’ve been around the block a few times with these critters.
You know, it’s funny how these things become a tradition. My first encounter wasn’t exactly planned. Years ago, I was down south, way off the beaten path, and these things were just… everywhere. The locals were scooping them up. Curiosity got the better of me, as it often does. Not like I was looking for a new hobby, mind you. I was actually trying to fix a leaky pipe in this old guesthouse I was staying at – total disaster that was, water everywhere. And then, bam, ant season hits. Priorities, right?
Anyway, this year, I decided to be a bit more methodical. My “practice,” if you will.
Getting a Hold of Them
First things first, you gotta get the zompopos. This isn’t like walking into a supermarket. You either know a guy, or you get lucky during their swarming season, usually after the first big rains in May. I heard whispers from a friend of a friend about a good spot. So, I packed a small bag – just essentials, a container, and some patience. Got up early, headed out. It was a bit of a trek, not gonna lie. Sweaty business.
- Found the spot. Lots of people, actually. More than I expected.
- The ants themselves, the big ones, the queens or whatever they are, they’re quite something. Big, winged.
- Collected a decent amount. You gotta be quick, but careful. They can nip, though it’s mostly just startling.
Prepping the Little Guys
Once I got them home, the real work began. This is the part most folks don’t talk about enough. It’s not just grab and cook.
So, I spread them out on a tray. Had to remove the wings and legs. Yeah, sounds a bit grim, but that’s how it’s done. Tedious. Very tedious. My fingers were sore. My back was aching from hunching over. Put on some music to pass the time. Still took ages. This is where your commitment is tested. Lots of tiny wings everywhere. Had to keep sweeping.
Cooking Time
After what felt like an eternity of de-winging, it was time to cook. The classic way is just toasting them. I got my comal, a traditional clay griddle, nice and hot. No oil, nothing fancy at first.
- Tossed the cleaned ant bodies onto the hot comal.
- Kept them moving so they wouldn’t burn. You want them toasted, crispy.
- The smell is… unique. Earthy, a bit nutty. Fills the kitchen.
- Then, a little salt. Some people add lime juice, chili. I went simple: just salt.
The Taste Test and Final Thoughts
And then, the moment of truth. Or, well, another moment of truth since I’ve had ’em before. They’re crunchy, definitely. The taste? It’s hard to pin down. Some say nutty, some say like chicharrones (pork rinds). I get that. It’s an acquired taste, for sure. Not something I’d eat every day. More of a novelty, a seasonal thing.
So, why did I go through all this effort again? Good question. Sometimes I wonder myself. Maybe it’s the tradition. Maybe it’s the challenge of doing something a bit different, something connected to the local culture. It’s not like it’s a gourmet meal that’ll change your life. It’s… an experience. And this year’s practice run? Well, I got my zompopos, I prepped them, I cooked them. They tasted like zompopos. No surprises there.
Honestly, half the fun is the process, the story you get to tell. The other half is probably just proving to yourself you can still be bothered to do these slightly mad things. Will I do it again next year? Ask me next May. Right now, I’m just glad the kitchen doesn’t smell like toasted ants anymore and I don’t have to pluck any more tiny wings for a while. That part, I could definitely do without. But hey, that’s the Zompopo de Mayo experience for you. Raw and real.
