Only On The Walters Post

Now, I’m not here to tell folks what to think, I’m just sharing what life has shown me. Take from it what makes sense, leave the rest, but maybe let it sit with you a while.

Well, here we go again, another new thing being served up like it’s the answer to all our problems, this time, it’s cricket burgers. Yep, real bugs, raised on farms, ground into powder, and pressed into patties. The chef says it’s for sustainability. The menu says it’s better for the planet. And the folks eating it say, “Well, it didn’t taste like much.”

Now, I’m not here to knock curiosity or change. I’ve seen a lot in my seventy-odd years, some good, some not. But when I hear about bugs being farmed indoors and turned into food, it gives me pause. Because, no matter how you dress it up with garlic mayo or chow chow relish, a bug is still a bug. And if you’ve got to grind it to dust and hide it in beans to make it palatable, maybe that says something right there.

And another thing is, that crickets out in the wild eat a variety of natural things — roots, leaves, bits of bark. But these farmed ones? They’re raised in plastic trays, stacked like filing cabinets, and fed grain pellets. That’s not a life, that’s a machine. The same goes for farmed fish, fed unnatural diets and swimming in circles. The same goes for artificial sweeteners with names you can’t pronounce, now linked to cancers and gut problems. It’s a half-measure, plain and simple.

I raised animals the old way, outside, on pasture, under the sky, and when you butchered one, you knew what went into it, and you respected what came out. These crickets might be efficient, sure, but food should be more than efficient. It should be real. It should have texture and depth and a connection to the land, not grown in trays under a heat lamp.

Now I get that some folks are trying to do the right thing. I really do. Climate’s changing, and people want to help. But to me, the answer isn’t replacing steak with powdered insects. It’s slowing down, eating better, and respecting food again. Real foo, grown with care, not cooked up in a lab or hidden in a blender.

So no, I won’t be lining up for a bug burger anytime soon. And if that makes me old-fashioned, well… maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

“Until the next time, keep your minds open and your stories alive.” GW