Japanese bartenders’ understanding of alcohol is so profound that it sends chills down your spine.
The underworld brews keep evolving, and you can understand the changes in civilization, the cards the world holds, or the subtleties of human nature, but you’ll never fathom the thought processes of the island nation.
This is a practical application of metaphysics, striving to desensitize all those oppressed by the tyranny of cockroaches by confronting their fears head-on. 
While ordinary cocktails make people flirt in the dim, mellow light, Tokyo’s “Cockroach Cocktail” makes you shiver in the heat of summer. No amount of herbal medicine can cure your heart’s demons, no remedy can dispel human suffering, but cockroach sake can take it all in. It doesn’t choose its customers; it only chooses the twisted.
This is a summer-limited special from a Tokyo bar, which you could consider a branch of the soup of oblivion (Meng Po Tang), only it has crossed the sea to the East, adding an element of surreal understanding — we die together.
“I thought it was a highly realistic alcohol companion, like a harmless tea pet. When I took the first sip, I locked eyes with it, and it winked at me. That’s when I lost it.”
But most of the time, the cockroach doesn’t move because its mouthparts and front legs have been manually broken off and placed on the rim of the glass. This means that the first sip of your drink might have been taken by it, and it might not be moving because it’s drunk.
There’s an old Chinese saying, “Alcohol doesn’t intoxicate people; people intoxicate themselves,” which perfectly describes this scenario. The low-alcohol content of 5% focuses your vision, then dilates your pupils, and under the warm light, the mascot in front of you appears larger, allowing you to see the subtle changes in the cockroach’s expressions, its age, blood type, and even its zodiac sign.
The bar guarantees that the cockroaches are not reused, ensuring cleanliness and hygiene for customer peace of mind, so they can drink with ease and leave with a sense of comfort.
These alcohol companions are water cockroaches, also known as water scorpions, fierce in water, known for visiting friends’ homes when they’re away to exchange information with their lovers, spreading love and ideals across entire ponds in one night.
Of course, the water scorpions not at home are likely on their way to visit friends. Such rare attributes, combined with alcohol, have become tokens of love, limitedly released by the bar for Valentine’s Day.
It’s tailored for adventurous couples, one cup each, a love stronger than gold, and when shared, it can cut through anything. A cigarette after, a drink before, a bowl of cockroach sake for a night of battle.
“There’s nothing particularly special about the taste, but who drinks alcohol for the taste?”
Originally planned to release 2,000 cups during Valentine’s Week, over 5,000 people claimed to have tried it, and the word-of-mouth spread like wildfire. The bar kept brewing more, turning it into a Tokyo specialty.
The water cockroaches are imported directly from Thailand, with firm leg muscles and plump, round abdomens, all premium goods from Southeast Asian rice fields, and they come at a hefty price. After drinking the cockroach sake, you can have the bar turn the cockroach into tempura, essentially getting two for the price of one, only paying for the processing, which is all about cost-effectiveness.
“A cockroach soaked in alcohol exudes a fascinating aroma, like a fleeting romance on the streets of Shinjuku.”
Some individual entrepreneurs, seeing the success of this renowned drink, started to replicate it. Faced with a flood of orders, Thai farmers were at a loss, and after catching all they could from the fields, they even started farming them.
It’s worth noting that “water cockroaches” are a genuine delicacy in Thailand, and their export to Japan could be considered cultural exchange.
But this is a misinterpretation. Many vloggers thought they were eating cockroaches in Thailand, but Thais don’t eat water cockroaches; they eat another insect that looks similar, known as the “field cricket.”
This unique culinary culture was brought back to Japan by Japanese tourists running izakayas, possibly leading to some information bias, turning field crickets into water cockroaches, and from there, an unstoppable trend, with countless water cockroaches being airlifted from Southeast Asia to Tokyo’s dining tables.
Water cockroaches are actually edible, though visually they’re quite fierce. Some Japanese chefs have even developed bento boxes featuring water cockroaches, selling for about 60 RMB each.
It’s the ultimate side dish for drinking, as peanuts and edamame are just plants, not as enticing to human desires as water cockroaches.
The fried water cockroaches sit in their food containers, calm, indifferent, and at peace, like seasoned scalpers outside a venue with tickets in hand, always waiting, waiting for the next lucky diner to arrive.
