We eat lots and lots of insects, which is a very good thing.

The next time you consider complaining to your waiter about a fly in your soup, consider the futility of that exercise. Insects are everywhere, and there is no way around eating them. Acknowledging this, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration maintains a list of Commodities and Defects Action Levels, which spells out just how much insect contamination is allowed in most every type of food. Frozen broccoli is permitted up to 60 whole aphids per 100 grams, while curry powder can contain 100 insect fragments in each 25 grams. Sorry vegans, you are most certainly crunching down on exoskeleton or through soft aphid flesh among your leafy greens. So you might as well try to enjoy the extra protein. With an estimated 2 billion people worldwide regularly eating insects, you won’t be alone.

I’ve been an on-again off-again bug eater since my summer camp days, when we ran about in loincloths and ate roasted grasshoppers off the fire. They tasted vaguely like popcorn, and I had yet to understand how good they could be with beer.

In college, I frequented an event called Eat Bugs for Money, which took place each May during the annual year-end bash. I never participated as a consumer, having learned at an early age to prefer my bugs cooked – not to mention dead. Nonetheless, I basked in the inebriated mob’s communal energy as we cheered the bidding wars that would determine which person was to eat which bug for the least amount of financial compensation. Together, we chanted, “Eat the bug!”

This approach to entymophagy, as bug eating is officially called, is mirrored in television shows like Fear Factor and Survivor, where a person’s disgust at the eating of bugs is leveraged against some kind of prize for overcoming it, all for the viewer’s perverse enjoyment.

But in many parts of the world, eating bugs is its own reward. In Japan, people open their wallets for aquatic larvae called zazamushi, while a plate of Mexican magueyworms can set you back quite a few pesos.

In recent years, many have argued for widespread insect consumption as a way of providing cheap protein with a much smaller environmental footprint than meat. Insects are nutritional powerhouses, packed with protein, fiber, vitamins, fat and trace minerals like zinc. Bugs, on average, are about 10 times more efficient than beef at converting feed into human food, and many of the world’s hunger and environmental problems could be solved if we would just eat them.

Bugsolutely, a Thai company, recently sent me a sample of its one and only product, a box of spiral-shaped wheat noodles made with 20-percent cricket flour. Looking at these Italian-style fusilli, the insect fragments were clearly visible. Nonetheless the noodles tasted mild, with nothing weird going on, and had the proper firm, smooth texture, with no crunch unless prepared al dente. The noodles went well with pesto and cheese and other typical pasta companions. The insect content added intrigue.

I found my way to the website of a company called Thailand Unique, where I ogled a jungle of insects, pictured and described in vivid detail. The critters are cleaned, pressure cooked and dehydrated before being packaged.

I perused the water scorpions and hornet larvae, marveled at worms that have eaten nothing but the cores of young bamboo plants. The nutritional content of each bug was broken down in great detail. At 55-percent dry weight, silkworms have the highest total protein of all insects – which makes sense given protein is the main component of silk.

Shipping to the U.S. from Thailand can be expensive, but Seattle’s Marx Foods can ship several members of the Thailand Unique product line. I ordered some bugs: ants, silkworm pupae, termites, cricket powder, a couple scorpions, and some bamboo worms. The packages arrived and the family gathered around the table to eat some bugs. The kids were psyched.

But despite our collective will to eat the bugs, when actually faced with the bugs, we didn’t want to. I soldiered through the samples. The bamboo worms were a bit cheesy, the silkworms nutty, and the ants bore a hint of lemon. They were all dry and oily. The scorpions are still in the bag.

While fascinating, the feeling just wasn’t there. Perhaps had they been fresher, like on the streets of Bangkok or the campfires of my youth, I would have been more eager.

Several efforts are underway to elevate insect cuisine, including a research lab in Copenhagen dedicated to “insect deliciousness,” and many restaurants are adding insects to their menus.

Luckily, as has been established with products like baloney, even the most disgusting-sounding ingredients can be homogenized into palatable form with enough fat, salt or sugar. I think the folks at Bugsolutely are on the right track after all. Cricket protein bars are already on the shelf, and maybe soon they will be joined by bug bagels and bug burgers, not to mention bug baloney. And perhaps some day, the holiest grail of them all, bug bacon.