Deep-Fried Tarantula Spider

Deep-Fried Tarantula Spider
Deep-Fried Tarantula Spider
Readers of earlier printings of my cookbook were treated to the sad tale of my failed attempt to acquire specimens of the world's biggest arachnid, the goliath bird-eating spider as the piece de resistance of this recipe collection. Since then, I've had many opportunities to cook with lesser-sized tarantulas and have now replaced the original "hypothetical" recipe with the one on these pages. Although I am at times saddened to dispatch such charismatic and long-lived invertebrates in the name of bug cuisine, I console myself with the thought that most of the tarantulas I've acquired were otherwise destined to unsatisfying lives as classroom pets and lab research specimens. Furthermore, let's face it: tarantulas make for a tasty and texturally satisfying meal. Here's why. Unlike heavily armored grasshoppers, beetles, and other land arthropods, tarantulas wear an outer layer of chitin that is comparatively thin and pliable. That's right: their eight muscular limbs are chewy, not crunchy. As such, the plentiful meat on one of these animals is more accessible and, hence, the makings for a savory spider soiree. If, for my birthday dinner, I could order anything I wanted, I'd request a Maine lobster or a tarantula spider. Properly prepared, either would make an awesome celebratory entree. Incidentally, this particular recipe helped me best three other chefs in a series of round-robin eliminations, assisting me in bringing home the gold at the first-ever Big Bug Cook-Off, held in May 2011 at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County.
  • Preparing Time: -
  • Total Time: -
  • Served Person: 4 servings
Appetizer Deep-Fry
  • 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 2 cups canola or vegetable oil
  • 2 frozen adult texas brown, chilean rose, or similar-sized tarantulas, thawed
  • 1 cup tempura batter

A Housewife's Unexpected Culinary Adventure: Deep-Fried Tarantula

My life is usually filled with the familiar rhythm of school runs, grocery shopping, and endless laundry. But every now and then, a little adventure sneaks in, and this time, it came in the form of a surprisingly delicious deep-fried tarantula. I never imagined I'd be writing about this, let alone *eating* this, but there I was, participating in a friendly competition among my foodie friends, and the challenge involved incorporating something unusual into a dish.

The idea of eating a spider was initially daunting, I'll admit. The initial reaction was one of apprehension, a mixture of disgust and morbid curiosity. However, as I delved deeper into the preparation, the fascinating process itself began to intrigue me. Preparing the tarantulas involved a surprising amount of delicate care - singering off the hairs with a crème brûlée torch, a process that felt oddly similar to preparing delicate pastries. I even had a moment of quiet reverence as I held the little arachnids, reflecting on their fascinating lives before they became an unusual culinary addition to my repertoire.

Then came the frying. It was surprisingly straightforward; the tempura batter crisped beautifully, resulting in a light, crunchy exterior. The texture was a revelation; much more delicate and tender than I had anticipated, more akin to a delicate seafood than the crunchy, insect-like texture I’d imagined. The flavor was subtly earthy, lending itself perfectly to the smoky paprika seasoning. This wasn't the creepy-crawly experience I'd feared; it was actually quite pleasant. The legs were surprisingly meaty and succulent, a delightful, almost savory chewiness that surprised even me.

The experience of preparing and eating the deep-fried tarantula transcended simple gustatory pleasure; it pushed me beyond my culinary comfort zone and rewarded me with a newfound appreciation for the diversity of edible possibilities that exist in the world. It was a valuable lesson in embracing the unexpected, both in cooking and in life. It wasn't just a recipe; it was a memorable adventure, a reminder that venturing outside my comfort zone can lead to incredible and surprising rewards. The memory of that crispy, smoky, surprisingly delectable spider is a delightful addition to my family's collection of unusual, yet utterly delicious, stories.

This experience has truly made me appreciate the culinary world's breadth and the potential for exciting discoveries even in unexpected places. What once seemed repulsive became a captivating challenge that resulted in a novel and tasty creation.

Now, if you're considering trying this yourself, don't be put off by the unusual nature of the ingredient. While it requires some careful preparation, the end result is far more impressive than you might imagine. The initial apprehension gives way to a sense of accomplishment and a remarkable culinary experience you won't soon forget. It has definitely added a whole new layer to the idea of 'exotic cuisine'. This wasn't a standard meal; it was an adventure, a testament to culinary curiosity, and a surprisingly satisfying feast.

From the careful preparation to the unexpected taste, the entire journey of cooking and eating the deep-fried tarantula was an experience that I would recommend to anyone who seeks adventure beyond their ordinary culinary routine. The taste was wonderful, but the whole experience was far more memorable. And that, my friends, is what makes life an unforgettable journey—embracing the unusual and discovering the wonderful surprises it holds.

Step-by-step

    • In a deep saucepan or deep-fat fryer, heat the oil to 350°F.
    • With a sharp knife, sever and discard the abdomens from the two tarantulas. Singe off any of the spider's body hairs with a crème brûlée torch or butane cigarette lighter.
    • Dip each spider into the tempura batter to thoroughly coat. Use a slotted spoon or your hands to make sure each spider is spread-eagled (so to speak) and not clumped together before dropping it into the hot oil.
    • Deep-fry the spiders, one at a time, until the batter is lightly browned, about 1 minute. Remove each spider from the oil and place it on paper towels to drain.
    • Use a sharp knife to cut each spider in two lengthwise. Sprinkle with the paprika and serve. Encourage your guests to try the legs first and, if still hungry, to nibble on the meat-filled mesothorax, avoiding the spider's paired fangs, which are tucked away in the head region.