After he had eaten three or four he offered one to Newt, who covered it liberally with molasses. To his surprise, it tasted fine, though mostly what tasted was the molasses. The grasshopper itself just tasted crunchy, like the tailbones of a catfish.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I wish you’d fry up some of these mosquitoes,” Augustus said. “I doubt they’d make good eating, but at least we’d be rid of them.” Then Deets ate the grasshopper. He crunched it, chewed, and then reached for another, grinning his big grin. “Tastes just like candy,” he said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Deets dipped the grasshopper in the little dish of molasses.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Finally Deets walked over and picked up one of the grasshoppers. He was inclined to trust a man who could cook such flavorsome stew. He grinned, but didn’t eat it right away.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

It was Deets who first got up his nerve to sample the fried grasshoppers. Since the new cook had the crew in such a good mood, Call allowed him to use a little of the molasses they were saving for special occasions. Just having someone who could cook decently was a special occasion, though, like the men, he put no stock in eating grasshoppers.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“That’s why I hope I go to heaven,” Po Campo said. “I don’t want nothing more to do with that woman.” “This here ain’t Montana,” Call said. “Let’s start the cattle.” That night, true to his word, Po Campo fried some grasshoppers. Before he got around to it he fed the crew a normal meal of beefsteak and beans and even conjured up a stew whose ingredients were mysterious but which all agreed was excellent. Allen O’Brien thought it was better than excellent—it changed his whole outlook on life, and he pressed Po Campo to tell him what was in it.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

They’re quick as rabbits.” “No, I am going to fry some for Newt,” Po Campo said. “He claims he has never eaten a good fried grasshopper dipped in molasses. It makes a good dessert if you fry them crisp.” The crew burst out laughing at the thought of eating grasshoppers. Po Campo chuckled too. He had already dismantled his little grill and was scouring the frying pan with a handful of weeds.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“If you’re thinking of them pigs, don’t bother,” Augustus said. “If they want grasshoppers, let them catch their own.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“It’s just a plain omelet, made from plover’s eggs,” he added, for emphasis. “I could have scrambled one up if I’d known you boys had a taste for such things.” “Tonight I intend to fry some grasshoppers,” Po Campo remarked. He was watching the two blue pigs—they in their turn were watching him. They had come out from under the wagon in order to eat the eggshells.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Maybe you oughta just cook some beef,” he suggested. “That’s what we’re mostly used to.” Po Campo chuckled again. “Worms make good butter, you know,” he said. “Slugs particularly.” Newt didn’t know what to say to that. It occurred to him that the Captain might have been a little hasty when he hired the cook. Po Campo was even friendlier than Bol, but still, a man who thought you could dip grasshoppers in molasses and use worms for butter was not likely to become popular with a finicky eater like Jasper Fant, who liked his beef straight.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“When I can get them,” Po Campo said. “The old ones taste better than the young ones. It isn’t that way with animals, but it is with grasshoppers. The old ones are brittle, like old men. They are easy to get crisp.” “I doubt you’ll get anybody to eat one,” Newt said, beginning to believe Po Campo was serious. After all the trouble there had been over snakes in the stew, it was hard to imagine what would happen if Po Campo fried up some grasshoppers.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I call her Maria after my sister,” Po Campo said. “My sister was slow too.” “Do you really cook grasshoppers?” Newt asked.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“There’s a barrel in the wagon but we ain’t used it yet,” Newt said. “Might be saving it for Christmas.” “Maybe I’ll fry up some grasshoppers tonight,” Po Campo said. “Grasshoppers make good eating if you fry them crisp and dip them in a little molasses.” Newt burst out laughing at the thought of anyone eating a grasshopper. Po Campo was evidently a joker.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“It’s new to them but they’re a quick-witted race,” Augustus said. “Give ’em a week and they’ll be ridin’ like Comanches.” “I don’t know that I’ll pause a week,” Jake said. “You boys have got hard to tolerate. I might take that yellow-haired gal and mosey off to California.” “Jake, you’re a dern grasshopper,” Augustus said. “You ride in yesterday talking Montana, and today you’re talking California.” Once the Irishmen had got fairly competent at mounting and dismounting, Augustus gave them each a Winchester and made them shoot at a cactus a time or two.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

While they were squatting by the springhouse, the pigs came nosing around the house looking for something to eat. But there wasn’t so much as a grasshopper in the yard. They stopped and looked at Augustus a minute.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

After supper, when Call left for the river, Augustus, Pea Eye, Newt, Bolivar and the pigs repaired to the porch. The pigs nosed around in the yard, occasionally catching a lizard or a grasshopper, a rat snake or an unwary locust. Bolivar brought out a whetstone and spent twenty minutes or so sharpening the fine bone-handled knife that he wore at his belt. The handle was made from the horn of a mule deer and the thin blade flashed in the moonlight as Bolivar carefully drew it back and forth across the whetstone, spitting on the stone now and then to dampen its surface.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

I want big, beautiful, grasshoppers bobbing up and down as far the eye can see.
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