By Whitney Bauck for The Guardian.
Broadcast version by Edwin J. Viera for New York News Connection reporting for the Solutions Journalism Network-Public News Service Collaboration
Chef Joseph Yoon is used to people reacting negatively to his creations: he’s watched a child cry when she realized the pumpkin cake in her mouth was made with cricket powder, seen a grown adult spit out his bug-laden bite of food, and endured racist online comments aimed at him for suggesting that scorpions or mealworms are worth eating.
But none of that seems to faze Yoon. If anything, it just reaffirms the importance of his work destigmatizing entomophagy. As the founder of Brooklyn Bugs and a self-described “edible insect ambassador”, Yoon is on a mission to prove that eating bugs is good for the planet – and the palate.
Yoon’s work includes giving presentations everywhere from elementary schools to Harvard, partnering with institutions like the Smithsonian and Nasa on sustainable food initiatives, and occasionally cooking for journalists like me, all in an effort to raise awareness about the planetary benefits and culinary joys of eating bugs.
“I like to share the sense of hope and optimism and to be able to capture people’s imagination through cooking insects,” Yoon said from his kitchen table in Queens over a bite of stir-fried cicadas. “The question is: how do we start changing the perception from insects as pests to something that’s sustainably farmed, nutrient dense and that can add a tremendous amount of flavor to your food?”
Insect consumption has been highlighted by the UN’s Food and Agriculture Organization as an important tool in addressing food insecurity for a growing global population. And since agriculture is the second-largest greenhouse gas emitter after the energy sector, insect eating presents a compelling climate solution, too – crickets, for example, can provide the same amount of protein as cows for less than 0.1% of the emissions.
Yoon pointed out that people have been eating insects since long before the practice was recognized as a climate win. “There are over 2 billion people in 80% of the world’s nations that are already regularly consuming insects,” he said. But the stigma and yuck factor that persist in many places, including much of the US, are what Yoon is interested in changing.
His approach is to lead with the joy of eating. Learning to enjoy consuming bugs might require some retraining of your palate depending on where you grew up, he said, but we apply that training whenever we try new foods from unfamiliar cultures or admonish our kids to eat veggies.
“There are over 2,000 types of edible insects with wildly different flavor profiles, textures and functionality,” Yoon said. “Take garlic, for comparison. Say someone was like, ‘I love garlic, try a piece raw,’ and you’d never had it before, you’d probably be like, ‘This is really intense, I don’t like this.’ You have to learn to work with the ingredient, to roast it, to saute it … We’re just at the very tip of understanding how to truly work with insect protein.”
So where might the entomophagy-curious get started? And what do all these varieties of bug actually taste like? Yoon and I sat down together over a beautifully plated bug tasting menu served in his home kitchen to dig in to those questions and talk through a few of his go-to insect ingredients.
Crickets: a nutty flavor
“Crickets are commonly referred to as the gateway bug,” Yoon told me, serving up a few different varieties of his homemade kimchi that substitute cricket powder for fish sauce. “I’ve cooked easily over 100 unique dishes with crickets.”
Available in both whole and powdered form, crickets are farmed in indoor settings and given a savory, “nutty” flavor by roasting. Yoon noted that crickets are remarkably versatile – you can add the powder to smoothies, baked goods or hummus to increase the protein content, or use them to form a crunchy crust on fried foods.
Grasshoppers: a savory snack
There are many flavor and texture similarities between grasshoppers and crickets, Yoon said, though grasshoppers tend to be a bit meatier. But the grasshoppers he served me, nestled on a bed of delicately arranged avocado and mango, were something special: they were chapulines, seasoned with lime, chillies and salt. Gathered from Oaxaca, Mexico, these are some of the only insects that are caught outside in specially designated fields, Yoon said.
“These are also sold at [T-Mobile Park] in Seattle, and they sell out of grasshoppers every ball game,” he said of the stadium where the Mariners play. They were so tasty that I found that easy to believe – and they were the first insects I looked into buying for myself after leaving Yoon’s kitchen.
Ants: ‘insect caviar’
Yoon described black ants as “insect caviar” and “almost like Pop Rocks” while sprinkling them as a garnish over soft-boiled quail eggs. Their formic acid content gives black ants a bright, citrusy tang, which is why Yoon uses them in “virtually any application where I want a citrus flavor”, he said, whether that’s a vinaigrette or a cocktail.
Weaver ants, while similar to their ebony counterparts, are bigger and “a little woodsier, with a little bit of a lemon flavor”, said Yoon. They’re particularly popular as an ingredient in chutneys or salsas, he added.
Manchurian scorpions: a shrimp-like taste
Despite being some of the more intimidating-looking critters in his pantry – those stingers! – Manchurian scorpions actually have a rather familiar flavor, Yoon noted. “These are brined in salt and sun-dried. They’re arthropods just like shrimp, so they have a baby-shrimp-esque quality and flavor,” he said. The scorpion he served me was tantalizingly dripping in gochujang, but he said he also enjoys eating scorpions in the form of a dashi stock that combines them with mushrooms and kombu.
Bamboo worms, weevils and wasps: creamy, coconutty, sweet
Bamboo worms, which hail from south-east Asia, aren’t worms at all, but caterpillars that live in bamboo thickets. Yoon said that they’re so mild and creamy that they’re tasty enough to be eaten straight out of the bag.
Another creamy variety is the palm weevil: besides being a low-carbon protein source, palm weevils are also an invasive species that causes damage to palm trees, which is all the more reason to eat them. Yoon served the slightly coconutty critter toasted on a bed of roasted beets with a cricket-powder-infused green goddess dressing and a sprinkling of black ants.
For a different kind of sweetness, look to Japanese wasps. Their flavor “starts a little bit sweet and finishes with this really fascinating minerality,” Yoon said. In Japan, people sometimes add the wasps to sake to infuse the alcohol with their unique flavor.
Mopane worms: pungent and earthy
Popular in Botswana and Zimbabwe, mopane worms are actually the caterpillar form of the emperor moth. Gathered from the mopane tree, they are commonly enjoyed in stews or maize porridges. For the western palate, Yoon recommends using aromatics like onions and garlic to balance their pungent flavor.
Cicadas: a meaty treat
The surprisingly meaty cicadas Yoon served on a bed of rice are “the most buggy” item on the menu: with legs and wings intact, there’s no mistaking them for anything else. But their flavor, enhanced by stir-frying with chillies and garlic, was enjoyable enough that I’d happily eat them again. These specimens were extra-special for a few reasons – first off, Yoon foraged them himself, and second, they were part of last summer’s Brood X emergence, an occurrence that only happens once every 17 years. He also served some cicada kimchi to showcase other ways they can be eaten.
Superworms: nature’s cheese puff
When eaten alone, superworms have a somewhat cheesy flavor that makes them a nice pairing for fruit, Yoon said. Tasting one by itself, I could see what he meant – it was a little like nature’s cheese puff. He then pulled out brownies for dessert that he told me contained both mealworm powder and whole mealworms, which he described as tasting “nutty with a hint of cacao and dried mushrooms,” and though I could sense a bit of a unique crunch, the truth is they just tasted like deliciously chocolatey but otherwise normal brownies.
Yoon laughed. “That’s very commonly the reaction when people try my food. They’re like, ‘Oh, that’s just food.’ It’s not this crazy thing. And that’s really what I’m trying to help people appreciate, so they can see insects as a new ingredient they can integrate into the things they already like to eat.”
Whitney Bauck wrote this article for The Guardian.
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By Randiah Camille Green for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Chrystal Blair for Michigan News Connection reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration
A waft of what smells like fresh cut grass and burnt oil hangs in the air of Detroit's East Canfield neighborhood. The eerie smell comes from the nearby Stellantis Mack Assembly Plant, which has received repeated air quality violations for paint and solvent odors over the last several years. In March, Stellantis agreed to pay a $84,420 fine from the Michigan Department of Environment, Great Lakes, and Energy (EGLE) for air quality violations for one of its plants in the same neighborhood. This neighborhood has one of the highest rates of asthma hospitalization of children under 18.
Despite its foreboding presence, residents like sisters Kim and Rhonda Theus are finding intentional ways to erect beauty. They run the nonprofit Canfield Consortium, which repurposes vacant lots for things like community gardens and public art. They're even renovating a former corner store into a coffee shop and art gallery, and carving out a future bike path.
Honoring Place and People
Their latest project is the Detroit Remediation Forest, a forest bathing installation located in the East Canfield Art Park that they hope will help mitigate air pollution from the Stellantis complex. The forest is anchored by a gold sculpture called "New Forest, Ancient Thrones" by New York-based artist and activist Jordan Weber. The piece has an air quality monitor that tells residents the particulate matter levels in the air.
It's shaped like two crowns, as an ode to Queen Idia of Benin (modern-day Nigeria) and Queen Ranavalona III of Madagascar who fought colonization. The crowns also honor Kim and Rhonda as modern-day queens.
"It's a strong symbolic representation of the African diasporic experience and the trauma that's in the land in both Africa and the U.S.," Weber said. "There's the 2008 housing crisis where you see what happened to the legacy of Black homeownership in Detroit, for example. Queen Ranavalona was exiled from Madagascar and forced to live in Europe for the remainder of her life, and that's no different to me than us being displaced in our communities where we have [generations] of families who literally sweat and bled to get that land."
Weber's sculpture was unveiled to the public in May. A second phase of the forest installation will include planting air-purifying conifers like white pine and fir in partnership with the Greening of Detroit, and installing an elevated walkway. It will also host outdoor programming for the Barack Obama Leadership Academy across the street.
"New Forest, Ancient Thrones," is the newest addition to the East Canfield Art Park, which the Theus sisters opened in 2021 on a vacant corner. Kim and Rhonda wanted to leverage the power of art to spark conversations on environmental issues, gentrification, and Black representation.
The first art piece in the park was a bronze sculpture by Detroit sculptor Austen Brantley called "Boy Holds Flower." In that piece, a young Black boy sits cross legged as he gazes in admiration at a flower he's just picked. It's important for the children attending the Barack Obama Leadership Academy to have this image of joyful Black boyhood. The park also includes a "Hood Closed to Gentrifiers" sign by artist Bryce Detroit.
Guided by Purpose and Legacy
Kim and Rhonda remember when the neighborhood was a bustling, Black middle class area - before the Stellantis plant expanded its footprint and displaced their neighbors and before Detroit's foreclosure crisis caused families to lose their homes.
"There was a middle school that we went to, a [recreation] center, playgrounds, and all those things are gone," said Kim "People who are building families won't move to a neighborhood where they don't have those types of amenities, so a lot of the work that we're doing at Canfield Consortium is addressing things like that."
Weber was selected as an artist-in-residence by Sidewalk Detroit, a place-keeping organization championing public art and urban greenspace. Sidewalk Detroit Director and Founder Ryan Myers-Johnson said that during planning meetings, East Canfield residents stressed that any art brought to their neighborhood should address issues they are facing instead of beautification.
"We started to really understand the problem with Stellantis and the air quality issues and how [the plant] is touted as bringing in jobs and not something that is actually destroying health and the fabric of this neighborhood," Myers-Johnson said. "So, we needed somebody rooted in understanding spatial trauma and environmental justice issues."
Reclaiming their neighborhood is Kim and Rhonda's way of preserving the legacy of families like theirs who moved to Detroit to escape the Jim Crow South.
"Our parents were born and raised in Tennessee ... The only jobs they could get there were either domestic work or sharecropping. They wanted to buy a home and build a family, so they left everything they knew in Tennessee to move to Detroit and bought a house in East Canfield Village," Rhonda said. "The majority of people that live here come from the same situation... so these houses have a powerful legacy."
Randiah Camille Green wrote this story for Arts Midwest.
Disclosure: Arts Midwest contributes to our fund for reporting on Arts and Culture, and Native American Issues. If you would like to help support news in the public interest,
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By Kristy Alpert for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Terri Dee for Illinois News Connection reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration
On any given Friday night in the Township of O’Fallon, the loudest cheers do not come after a touchdown or a field goal. The real roaring begins the moment the final note of the halftime performance reverberates through the stadium.
In this Illinois suburb, music is the main event; specifically, the town’s beloved high school marching band. Across the town, band fan gear is sold in toddler sizes, lawns proudly proclaim that a “Marching Panther Lives Here,” and weekly marching practices often have cheering sections.
“I believe the band is the identity of the town,” explains Beth Mueller, a former O’Fallon band member (1988-1992) and current band parent. “It goes beyond just an activity that kids participate in; our band really plays an active role in the community and our community has a lot of pride and passion for the band program.”
The town’s passion was put to the test during the 2013-2014 school year, when district wide budget cuts threatened to silence the music program. Parents showed up in astounding numbers at town hall meetings saying cutting the music program would be “taking away their foundation.” During a time when band programs were being cut throughout the Midwest, the O’Fallon community refused to let theirs go.
Along with the band director’s fearless advocacy, the community started a nonprofit called Lifelong Music in O’Fallon Schools, which helped explore grants and sought creative ways to save the music.
“The community rallied around, and so did our school district, and we were able to kind of run it [the band program] through the Parks and Rec … until we were able to bounce back the following year with funding,” recalls Melissa Gustafson-Hinds, performing arts department chair and director of bands for the O’Fallon Township High School. “It was a one-year scare that we got through, and I would be really surprised if anything like that happened again.”
Thanks to the organization and the band booster club, the band’s budget has never been stronger, and neither has the community’s support, cheering the band on as they bring back numerous national awards—including the coveted John Philips Sousa Sudler Shield award—and as they participate in some of the country’s most prestigious national events, like the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and the Tournament of Roses Parade.
“We’re always looking for ways to highlight our students, because they are so great, but we also try to be humble within our community. … we do try to find ways to showcase their talents and to reward them so the community and the nation know that we have something special,” says Gustafson-Hinds.
They provide opportunities for the musicians to volunteer around town, like offering free community performances and creating leadership groups to support annual events for the town’s veterans and local charities. “I think it’s important for our students to learn the importance of giving back,” she adds.
And in O’Fallon, Illinois, that strength is derived from altruism, both from the many talented young musicians and from the community that supports them.
Kristy Alpert wrote this story for Arts Midwest.
Disclosure: Arts Midwest contributes to our fund for reporting on Arts and Culture, and Native American Issues. If you would like to help support news in the public interest,
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By Jacqueline Kehoe for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Mike Moen for Wisconsin News Connection reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration
Yerkes Observatory, in Williams Bay, Wisconsin, calls itself a 125-year-old start-up. Widely regarded as America’s most historic observatory—names like Carl Sagan, Edwin Hubble, and Nancy Grace Roman once dashing through its hallways—Yerkes seemed destined to become a dusty museum. And then, growing like a nascent star, it found a second life.
“The University of Chicago couldn’t make this facility work exclusively as an observatory,” says Walt Chadick, Yerkes’ director of programs and external affairs. Observatories are in the sky, or on mountaintops in faraway lands—not subject to the light pollution of Chicago. When the Yerkes Future Foundation took over in 2020, they needed a new plan. “We realized we needed to branch out beyond what astronomy is to what people make based on astronomy,” says Chadick. That’s how we could make an impact on our community.”
Reopened in May 2022, Yerkes has already put its mission to work: Poet laureates, Grammy winners, NASA sculptors, Pulitzer-winning authors, and composers and artists across nearly every genre have gathered here to be inspired by astronomy. The result? Ideas as big as the cosmos.
Prior to the University of Chicago handing over the reins to the Yerkes Future Foundation, the aging facility was slowly becoming an archaeological site. “They had the occasional Saturday tour,” explains Dr. Amanda Bauer, deputy director and Yerkes’ head of science and education. “They ran summer camps and had a bunch of 3D printers—but it was more of a museum as opposed to whatever you call what we are now.”
When pressed, Bauer calls Yerkes a “science destination.” She quickly adds caveats: the history, the art, the architecture, and the landscape—Yerkes is an Olmsted site and an accredited arboretum.
Those caveats have served as Yerkes’ artistic compass: US Poet Laureate Tracy K. Smith read “Life on Mars” under the gaze of the Great Refractor, the largest refracting telescope in the world; 30 musicians, led by Grammy Award-winning ensemble Eighth Blackbird, composed and performed new works based on star images and plates; Ashley Zelinskie, the official sculptor for NASA, created a custom work evoking light bending through spacetime, infused with nods to Yerkes’ historic details; and the world’s largest glass tree, blown onsite, marked Christmas. “Connecting our material to art—we’ve got the largest glass lens used for astronomy, 180,000 glass plates—that’s the through line for all of these cross-pollinated, big ideas,” says Bauer. “That’s the sort of thing we’re doing here.”
In 2024, the Blackbird Creative Lab is back alongside more summer events, from a puppet show directed by Ann Hamilton, a visual artist known for her large-scale multimedia installations, to a night with Jonathan Bailey Holland, dean of music at Northwestern University. Artists “go down that road of what is the science of music and art,” says Chadick, “using old astronomy equipment, using books and our plate collection to inform composition. We keep astronomy at our core, and then we bridge-build from there.”
Jacqueline Kehoe wrote this story for Arts Midwest.
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