Carol’s Column

Soon we'll be gobbling Karoo 'land langoustines'

There's always something interesting happening in this remarkable land of ours and the latest little snippet to pass my way concerns the ubiquitous locust, those prehistoric creatures which have been around for centuries in more or less the same form as that from which they evolved.

You might be interested to know that in the Oxford dictionary, the locust is described as an African grasshopper. It seems that in the Karoo, known as locust land by disenchanted farmers, a gaggle of cerebrally advantaged scientists is presently experimenting with these rapacious insects. Because locusts are regarded as pests and because they're so prolific, as an alternative to culling, they're being reinvented as food.

Invertebrate affirmative action in the form of culinary creativity.

These innovative scientists have discovered that, when cooked correctly, locusts taste delicious. And, not only are they scrumptious morsels which will make the most jaded of tastebuds rock and roll with sheer delight, they're apparently also a rich source of protein.

As mentioned, the Karoo, better known for its sheep, has one of the largest locust populations worldwide. Now locusts have hearty appetites and are also prolific breeders. So, before you blink an eyelash, one locust turns to 100.

On the wing, they fly in sociable groups which may stretch across one kilometre and back in depth to as much as five kilometres. Which is one hang of a lot of locust on the loose.

Flying goats of the sky, locusts when swarming, or even when alone, eat everything in sight. Our farmers regard them as vermin and spend over R11-million a year on locust control, which usually takes the form of spraying crops and the surrounding veld.

As extraordinary as it sounds, the unusual often makes desirable food. Look at bird's nest soup, shark fin stew, grilled mopane worms. Some years ago, keen foodies looking for something exotic, could find canned chocolate-coated ants at select stores. Because life is short and one should have a sense of adventure, I bought a tin and served them as a sprinkling for that well-known English delicacy, brussels sprouts icecream.

My mother-in-law remarked that she'd never tasted anything quite like it before. She was right.

To tell the truth, I've always been fascinated by brussels sprouts ever since I learnt that the British hybridised them from their bigger relative, the cabbage, during World War 2, so that the Germans would not see them and thus be able to bomb them.

To get back to Karoo locusts. I tried to contact Thys Heyns of the Department of Agriculture, who apparently knows all about the locust culinary programme, but without success. I wondered how exactly the locusts were being marketed. Stirfried, coated in sesame seeds, whole, in part or headless?

It's obviously a challenge to get these voracious gobblers to become appetising gobblees.

Eventually, I managed to track down a Miss Corrie van Niekerk, who seemed a little mystified, but, after I'd explained the situation, was full of ideas.

She suggested that locusts deep-fried in butter would resemble small langoustines. With a dab of lemon juice and a topping of parsley, they'd be positively delectable, she added.

The name “land langoustine” immediately sprang to mind. I suggested it to Miss van Niekerk, who giggled and said she'd pass it on to the right section. If she could find it.

“Aren't you the Department of Agriculture?” I asked anxiously.

“No, I'm Grondsake,” she replied. And then: “What about locusts in lemon and leeks?” she added.

Imaginative folk, these of us from Land Affairs.

■