The dirt cup, but with actual bugs in it

don't read this if bugs scare you

May 11, 2021

Hello clowns, I’m Dannis Ree, the greatest food writer in all of history. Welcome to Jackass!

Well, the culinary newsletter version of the TV show Jackass, at least. I used to love that show, if that gives you any insight into my life choices and the adult I am today.

Now, today’s edition of the newsletter is amazing, but before I start the show, I’d like to announce something very special: Today is Davida’s birthday! Everyone, please wish her a happy birthday and sing to her from wherever you are, loudly, and tell her how much you love her. No, seriously, clowns, do it! It is good day to celebrate everything Davida, so give her a very loud round of applause. She provides half the ideas and jokes to the newsletter (okay, 95% of them), and that includes today’s.

Now, today’s newsletter involves a very special ingredient, which is bugs. I have to admit that the idea of eating bugs still bugs me a little (round of applause please), because I am usually generally scared of them unless they are very small. But once I get over that little hump I am reminded that they can be quite good to eat.

“Hey babe,” I shouted into the other room, “How did you come up with today’s idea again?!”

Davida said, “Every time I opened the cabinet, I would see those silkworms in there. Which made me think of worms, which made me think of dirt cups, because I’m a child.”

Yes, you read that correctly.

We had silkworms in the pantry.

The dirt cup is a treat from some people’s childhoods, if I am not mistaken.

We did not grow up eating dirt cups. In fact, I did not know what they were until, I believe, I was nearly an adult. Now, I am not talking about children eating desserts made of actual soil (though I would not put that past some kids I’ve met, to be honest), I am talking about those party treats made of chocolate pudding, Oreos, and gummy candies.

These are complete sugar bombs, which is a terrific idea if you want to turn a child into a walking lethal weapon. Multiply this by a whole kid’s birthday celebration and revel in the sheer chaos of high-pitched screaming and mayhem.

Rather than mix up some instant pudding mix, I picked some pudding cups from the store. They were dirt cheap (I am giving myself a standing ovation).

I tried a little. Man, pudding is truly the food of the gods. I don’t remember the last time I had a pudding cup, but they’re so good I’d shove 12 of them up my ass, followed by 34 more.

Most of the recipes I read for dirt cups involved mixing pudding with whipped topping, specifically, not whipped cream.

While making these delightful treats for children, you might as well grab the stuff off the freezer shelf that’s the furthest thing from nature you can get.

Once the pudding part is whipped up, all you have to do is cover the top with crushed Oreos and jam some gummy worms in there haphazardly.

That thing in the middle is a sour gummy octopus. Having graduated from kindergarten, I realize that octopuses do not live in dirt. But this particular octopus decided to come and hang out with its friends, the gummy worms. Too bad it eventually ended up in my stomach after I tore it apart violently with my teeth.

Dirt cups, I must say, are delicious. What’s not to love about foamy chocolate slop covered in cookies, with candy jabbed in? The taste brought me back to childhood. Well, someone else’s childhood, since I didn’t eat these growing up.

Here are the canned silkworms I mentioned earlier.

You can get these things from the Korean grocery store. Technically, these are silkworm pupa and not worms, though. In Korea, they are sold as a street snack called beondegi, and the silkworms are steamed or boiled, then served in a paper cup with a toothpick.

I have to admit they aren’t my favorite thing, but it’d been a few years since I’ve had some. I fished out a few with a spoon and ate them straight from the can and confirmed that I still do not like them very much, though I’ll tolerate them.

They’re sort of nutty (I hate when people use that description, but it’s accurate), and they kind of burst in your mouth a little, and leave a savory sort of inoffensive aftertaste that sticks around for a while. You will also have bits of shell that stick around in your mouth for a while. If you come over, I’ll feed you a bunch of them because I am a good friend.

After asking around our neighborhood group on Facebook, a kind neighbor was able to help me find a local specialty store that sold chapulines (grasshoppers) from Mexico.

The store is called Romero Especies (you can check it out here) and is full of imported goods from Mexico, some of which I’d never seen before. It’s a really cool place, and the owners were super kind to this curious little Korean dude who came in the shop to ask for something so specific.

Out of all the bugs I’ve ever eaten, grasshoppers are easily my favorite. Chapulines are easy to crush, and have the crunchy texture of perfectly crisped chicken skin. These were heavily seasoned with chili and lime and were absolutely delicious. I could eat them all day.

When Davida saw the package she made a face and said, “I think this might be where I draw the line.” But after I opened the bag she came up and tried one, like a goddamn champion. “It didn’t come back to life in my mouth like I irrationally feared, so it’s a win in my book.”

When the owners saw I was interested in the chapulines, they dug into the refrigerator and excitedly handed me a little sachet with these bugs in it.

They explained that these were called jumiles, and that they are typically ground up and mixed into a tomatillo salsa. Later after I came home I read about them, and it turns out that they are a kind of stinkbug that are sometimes eaten live, or roasted and put into tacos as well.

I am going to be completely honest and say that these things made me kind of nervous. A stinkbug? You can eat those things? Oh, man.

This wasn’t an easy one. I just tossed one in my mouth and chewed. As dry as they looked and felt, I was a little taken aback at the fact that it gushed in my mouth once I bit into it [insert joke here]. It tasted slightly like cinnamon, then became musky and bitter with a long, fairly intense aftertaste. Now I know what stinkbugs taste like, which is a fact I will bring up at post-pandemic parties for no reason.

I assembled the troops (bugs) and set the cup in front of Mr. Bee, so he could say goodbye to his brethren before they went down my hatch.

He then stared at me, as if to say, “I will eat you in your sleep for revenge, you giant sack of shitty meat.”

It is remarkable how much this actually did resemble a cup of dirt.

Goddammit. I was already pushing my limits with the stinkbug, but now a chocolate pudding with three types of insects on top? Fuck. I did this to myself, didn’t I?

I started easy, with the grasshoppers.

As much as I love the grasshoppers plain, I have to say, in chocolate pudding, they aren’t great. And it’s less the grasshoppery part; these things were so seasoned that they even obliterated the deep flavor of chocolate. The chili and lime kicked through the cocoa flavor and altogether sort of gave it all a curry sort of vibe, which rode the line between interesting and strange at the same time.

Next, I gave the silkworms a shot, and I have to say, these were much better than the chapulines. My issue with their texture disappeared when they were mixed with the soft pudding and crunchy crumbly cookies, as the bugs are sort of somehow soft and crunchy at the same time. That nutty flavor works okay with chocolate, and their saltiness also works in their favor. Should I pair them with Monster energy drink pudding?

And finally, the jumiles, the hardest of the three for me to handle. Like the silkworms, the Oreo crumble with the soft pudding masked the gushing texture I didn’t like so much, but the flavor definitely changed with the addition of chocolate. The stinkbug tasted sort of like chewing on leather or tobacco or something, and the complex aftertaste stayed for a long time. But I could certainly see how grinding them up into salsa would be very good, since the flavor would be stretched out and made a little more delicate, plus it would be mixed with acid and heat to temper the bitterness a bit.

So, a dirt cup with three different types of insects in it makes for a pretty round meal, huh? I am sure I got my fill of some weird vitamins I’m sure I’m lacking somehow. So, speaking of, anybody want to come over and help finish all these extra critters I have laying around the apartment? It’s practically infested in here!

After all these years, you’d have thought I would have done a bug-related post by now, huh? About time. If you were suitably grossed out, as I imagine some of you are right now, make sure you share this across social media, as I clearly need some form of attention:

And of course, c’mon, hop on the bandwagon and get a paid subscription. All the cool kids are doing it. Not only does it help buy bugs, which are expensive, you’ll become a patron of the worst publication about food ever made. You’ll unlock the past full archives at foodisstupid.substack.com, including previous paid content, and you’ll get a new post about insects this week.

Here’s a preview, and guess what other childhood treat I’m giving the bug treatment: