Charlotte Solomon bit into a chocolate-chip mealworm cookie, ready for the surprise inside.
The Santa Fe College zoo technology freshman had just finished a meal of squirrel and quail — capping it off with a worm-filled dessert.
“Dude, you can’t even taste it,” she said, chewing.
She paused. Hesitation. A bitter taste flooded her mouth.
“There’s the crunch,” she said. “All right, who wants my desserts?”
She and about 400 others feasted Saturday on stranger-than-usual fare at the UF student chapter of The Wildlife Society’s 29th annual Beast Feast, the organization’s yearly fundraiser.
Sam Baraoidan, co-vice president of the chapter, said hunters and ranchers from across the Southeast donate the meat. Club members take the cuts home to simmer and bake for the buffet.
A line of people twisted under a wooden pavilion. About 20 minutes before the food was fair game, there were about 100 people in line. Fifteen minutes later, that count had at least doubled.
Volunteers lifted trays from trailer ovens holding hundreds of pans. The ovens kept squirrel soup, “Bambi tacos” and other dishes at a balmy 250 degrees.
Inevitably, Baraoidan will have people ask her why a club that aims to protect animals would host such an event.
She said the majority of wildlife conservation funds come from taxes on guns, ammunition and fishing licences, making the food chain another piece of the protection puzzle.
Baraoidan said the event is intensely popular among the conservation community.
“There’s a huge fan base of people who wait all year for this,” she said.
As the dishes were put into place, volunteers peeled off foil, releasing steam and smells that resembled beef stew with a hint of pepper.
“I’m ready,” said a woman fourth in line, grasping her plate and fork. “I’m ready for this.”
With 60 foil dishes at the ready — and a flock of volunteers ready to replace the scavenged fare — a volunteer released the herd.
“Go. Yes. Eat,” she said.
People packed heaps of quail wings, veal-a-roni and sheep onto their doubled-up Styrofoam plates.
Nearby, Cowboyz Bar-B-Q and Catering staff carved hunks of hog. Steam seeped from the brown-red meat as the carvers worked. The air smelled of brisket.
Even after replacement dishes didn’t match with the labels, visitors piled on heaps of the mystery meat. Brave folk dug into cups of dirt: the dirt was fake; the worms were not.
Solomon said the event lived up to the hype.
“It just sounded amazing, like one of those things that you have to do before you die,” she said.
Civil engineering major Kyle Mays, 19, eats a piece of fried quail at the 29th annual Beast Feast on Saturday night. The event was sponsored by the UF Wildlife Society.
