Judging from Westin's reaction, it had to be true.
It was normal that experiences across regions were not universal.
I added some oil and seasoning into the saucepan after adding the moths, following the method Tina taught me. The moths turned oily and shiny, their bodies became plump and looked tasty to eat.
A faint fragrance wafted over and Westin came in, turning straight to me.
He was taken aback and asked, "You know how to cook it?"
I nodded and smiled. "I made some when I was younger, but I haven't done it in years. My skills are rusty, so I can only do it by memory."
I handed him the freshly- cooked moths with a smile and said, "Would you like to have a try?"
It was rare to see him smile back. "Sure."
He put the plump insects into his mouth, and chewed slowly. After a moment, he looked at me and said, "They're good."
People living in the southwest liked to eat things in their climate that appeared unacceptable by others, such as silkworms, maggots and locusts.
When Tina talked about it with us during our trek through the forest, it was certainly weird to me.
Her so-called memories were a little too gross.
It didn't seem that way now.
Watching me in my daze, he frowned and looked at me. "Don't you want to try it?"
This caught me off guard. I quickly picked up a moth and put it into my mouth. It tasted fine. If I didn't think of it as a bug and treated it as a regular dish instead, it tasted delicious. It was a rather special, protein-providing dish.
However, just eating them as they were was a little too bland. With a slight tinge of disappointment in my voice, I said, "It'd be great if we had beer."
Westin laughed, but took the initiative to grab some beer. I knew just beer on its own wouldn't cut it. Fortunately, I still had the medicine Naomi had given me.
Westin was a tough man. After eating the moths and drinking, he lowered his guard around me.
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