Tag Archives: Oslo

I survived Pestaurant

Yesterday was Pestaurant Day in Mathallen here in Oslo. Pestaurant is an event where you can get free samples of foods made from insects — or what we here in the west have been conditioned to think of as pests.

Insects is one of the more obvious answers to the question of what a growing humanity will eat in the future, and the sooner we start treating insects as food rather than pests, the better. Pestaurant Day is a start.

So, what was served at the Pestaurant?

Locust falafel with tabasco and yoghurt
Locust falafel with tabasco and yoghurt

These are locust falafel with tabasco and yoghurt, and I had a hell of a time getting a picture of them. They kept disappearing before I could focus!

I thought they tasted pretty nice, but were way too spicy for my palate.

Ant chocolate
Ant chocolate

Very sweet white chocolate, with some nice crunchy bits in them. The crunchy bits were ants. Yup, those little black bits in the picture, that’s it.

Cricket cake
Cricket cake

Lovely chocolate cake with crickets. Very nice, but the whole cricket on top turned into a very dusty, dry powder when crunched.

Absolutely delicious chocolate & banana bread with mealworms. Would eat by the kilo.

I also asked for and got some mealworms separately. Just like the crickets, they turn into dusty powder when chewed. They’re much better as an ingredient.

Crickets fried in coriander and chili, topped with mango sauce. Tasted like spices and mango. I didn’t experience the dry texture with these; I think the sauce gave enough moisture to prevent the dryness.

Not all that special by itself, but I could see this working as part of a larger dish.

Honeyroasted locust
Honeyroasted locust

Of all the dishes, the honeyroasted locust with pistachio nuts was the easiest to get my hands on. I can’t imagine why. Tasty and crunchy, but all the flavours could’ve been a lot stronger.

In addition the prepared locust, I got one that was much earlier in the preparation process. Alone it didn’t really taste of anything, it was all crunch and no flavour — which seems to be a theme for the insects used in this tasting.

There was also a mealworm takoyaki being served, but that one disappeared before I could even make it to the table, and it wasn’t refilled during the time I was around. A great shame, as everyone kept saying how delicious it was.

My boyfriend couldn’t come along due to work, so I grabbed him a consolation prize on the way out: A delicious lollipop.


Nom nom.

Happy bloody new year

Happy bloody new year. It can only go uphill from here, if this quite unpleasant new year’s eve is anything to go by. This day — and half the week leading up to it — has been marred by people thinking new year’s is a license to be inconsiderate jerks and discard common sense.

Let’s take the whole mess in order.

I’m used to the occasional firework going off in the days leading up to new year’s eve, but this time has been ridiculous. There’s been fireworks going off non-stop from sunset to two or three in the morning for the last three days. I don’t understand why you would want to dilute the special occasion like that, and I really don’t understand why you choose to be so inconsiderate towards neighbours who have pets, small children, or who simply need to get up early and don’t want to be kept up half the night by constant explosions.

Oslo has an official fireworks show off the pier on new year’s eve. While I’ve seen better fireworks elsewhere, it’s the best I’m going to get if I’m home for new year’s, and so I like to head downtown to watch and photograph it. So does the rest of the city, so lots of people in various states of drunkenness on public transport is to be expected. That’s fine. But a dozen people getting on the tube while smoking and continuing to smoke while in transit is not fine.

A young man in a suit didn’t think this kind of behaviour was quite antisocial enough, so he decided to graffiti the tube stop while the crowd was walking past. I’m not ashamed to say I punched him with my tripod as I passed.

There was a higher than usual number of police cars between the tube stop and the pier. Good to see the police keeping a good ratio of officers to assholes on the streets! I heard rumours about them confiscating illegal fireworks, unfortunately I didn’t see this myself.

As usual, people had been shooting up fireworks around the pier for hours before midnight, so the air was filled with smoke, obscuring the official fireworks. I really, really don’t understand why you want to ruin the good stuff with the very much un-spectacular store-bought fireworks.

Those floating fire lanterns are really pretty, but sending them up on the pier when the wind is blowing inland makes me think you are actually braindead. Why are you sending flying fire into downtown Oslo?!

The night bus home is going to be crowded and full of drunk people. Again, this is expected and fine. However, you being drunk and in a party mood simply does not change that the bus doors need a certain space to open and close. Shouting Money talks, muddafocka at the bus driver when he tells you to move out of this space for the third time is not helping anyone. What does that even mean? How does that statement make even a lick of sense in this context?

Ah well. It’s late, I’m grumpy, I probably didn’t get any decent photos (although that is my own fault), but I’m going to not care and go to bed. Tomorrow will definitely be better.

Great work, Ruter

Great work, Ruter. It’s great how the platforms on line 1 are still too short for full-length trains, in stoic defiance of the amount of traffic on this line. It’s great how line 1’s shorter train is so full in the morning that I physically can not get in the first door, nor the second. It’s great that I then have the third door — where there was just barely room for another body or two — closed before my face.

It’s just great to sit on the open tube stop for fifteen minutes on a cold october morning, knowing that I left my breakfast behind in the rush to catch my train.

It’s great how the next train, which should get me to work just on time manages to accumulate ten minutes of delay on a fifteen minute journey.

Great work. Really.

The daily stranger

I have just exited the bike shop and is busy strapping down my stuff for the ride home when a stranger walks up to me and compliments me on my bike. Well, I did buy this bike just yesterday, and as such it still has that new-bike shininess to it; a compliment is understandable. The man goes on to commend me on using a helmet, because us young people really should wear helmets. Well, yes, I do appreciate my head, so of course I’m using a helmet. The stranger isn’t quite done yet, and compliments me on the “dragon” on my Coyote shirt. Can I be bothered to correct a random stranger in the street on such a detail? Nah, not really.

We are now past the friendly comment from a stranger stage. He keeps talking. I take a better look at him, and he’s quite a character. His wild hair and navel-length beard is mostly white, his clothes are the kind of mish-mash you get from shopping in thrift stores, and he carries an old camera with a very, very long lens. I smell a rat. His talk about bike helmets for boobs — while he’s giving my boobs frequent looks — is not helping. I know I’m heavily equipped in the chest department, but if you want to look, be straight-forward or be subtle. This half-way thing is kind of creepy.

He compliments me on how fit I look and how I’m obviously staying healthy, and now this rat begins to stink. Really, buddy? Even dressing well doesn’t hide the fact that my fat rolls are stacked. I am getting a decent amount of muscle under that fat, but it’s nowhere near showing yet.

He keeps talking. About how much he loves dragons, and how he’s been working on this art project for over ten years now. He hasn’t told anyone about the details, not even his ex-girlfriend, because she only wanted to gossip about it. I know where this is going even before the words “back to nature” and “naked girls” leave his mouth.

Fine. This guy has already held me up for over five minutes, I can spare a few more for the entertainment value. I know I don’t look quite my age, and this guy has apparently pegged me as even younger than most people place me, because he keeps throwing the cheap compliments at me interspersed with “natural”, “back to basics”, and other assorted buzzwords. He’s taken pictures of all kinds of girls with all kinds of bodies, even 80-year old girls! Always girls, never women. He tries to ask about where I live. I tell him the general area, but don’t let him press me on details. I’m glad my sunglasses hide how fake my smile is.

It takes him another five minutes to get to the point. He wants to take my picture as I’m cycling naked down this very street, dragons painted all over my body! He spots my dragon tattoo, and nearly fondles my arm while going on about this is exactly what he had in mind, I should have dragons just like this painted all over me for his picture!

I ponder telling him where he can shove his 300mm lens, but I have a long and hilly way home, and I’ll need my energy for that. I get on my bike and push off before he can attempt to hold me back.

So how was your day?