The method is deceptively simple. Culanderos (ant harvesters) lay large, clean white plastic sheets or tarps on the forest floor, often near the entrance of mature ant colonies. Sometimes, they simply sweep the bare earth. Then, they wait. When the atmospheric conditions trigger the nuptial flight, the queens emerge from the nest. They are clumsy, reluctant fliers—their massive abdomens making aerodynamics a challenge. They run and flutter, attempting to launch themselves.
The ants arrived at the time of year when stored grains from the previous harvest were running low. The vuelo nupcial provided a sudden, abundant, and protein-rich resource exactly when it was most needed. The Guane believed that eating a queen ant would transfer her vitality and fecundity to the eater. To this day, some rural Colombians ascribe aphrodisiac qualities to the ants—a belief reinforced by their rich zinc and protein content, which are indeed beneficial for reproductive health. hormigas culonas
When done perfectly, a hormiga culona is not crunchy like a potato chip. It has a delicate, multi-textured architecture. The head and thorax are brittle, like fried shrimp shell. But the abdomen—the culona itself—is the prize. It bursts with a creamy, granular interior that has been compared to everything from toasted corn and peanut butter to smoky Parmesan cheese and crispy bacon. The flavor is savory (umami), nutty, slightly sweet, with a lingering, pleasant bitterness of toasted grain. It is a taste that defies easy categorization. You do not simply snack on hormigas culonas from a bag while walking down the street. To eat them is to participate in a ceremony of terroir. They are traditionally served in a small, woven estora (palm leaf basket) or a hollowed-out totumo (calabash gourd), accompanied by a cold masato (fermented maize drink) or a crisp, high-altitude chicha . In modern gastronomy, they are paired with artisanal beers or dry white wines. The method is deceptively simple
When the Spanish arrived, they were initially horrified by entomophagy (insect-eating). However, hunger and curiosity eventually overcame disgust. Colonial chronicles note that Spanish settlers quickly came to appreciate the “little toasted grains” that the natives offered. Over centuries, the hormiga culona transcended the indigenous sphere to become a regional symbol of santandereanidad —the identity of the people of Santander. In the 21st century, the hormiga culona has leaped from the rustic budare to the white tablecloths of some of the world’s most avant-garde restaurants. This is due in no small part to the work of Colombian chef Leonor Espinosa, whose restaurant Leo in Bogotá has been repeatedly named one of the best in Latin America. Espinosa, an economist turned chef, has made it her mission to document, preserve, and elevate the biodiversity of Colombian cuisine. Then, they wait
In the leaf-cutter ant hierarchy, the colony functions as a single superorganism. For most of the year, the queen sits deep within a labyrinthine nest, laying eggs tirelessly. But when the seasonal rains begin to soak the clay soils of the Andes—typically between late March and early June—the colony initiates a synchronized, biological spectacular: the vuelo nupcial , or the nuptial flight. On a specific morning, dictated by humidity and barometric pressure, the colony releases thousands of winged virgin queens and males. They take to the sky in a swirling, buzzing cloud, driven by the primal imperative to mate.