Seoul’s Michelin-Starred Restaurant Faces Legal Heat Over Ant-Laden Sorbet

In the culinary world, few stories are as intriguingly offbeat as a two-star Michelin restaurant in Seoul facing the sizzling spotlight of a food safety scandal—a tale so peculiar it could make even the most seasoned food critics do a double-take.

Nestled within the upscale district of Gangnam, the elite dining venue was celebrated for its avant-garde take on Korean cuisine, where a dish that could best be described as a sorbet gone rogue stole the show. The buzz around this sweet treat, topped with ants (yes, you read that correctly) imported from Thailand and the United States, was the kind of culinary daredevilry that could either crown a chef a genius or land them in hot water. It turns out the latter was the case.

South Korea’s Ministry of Food and Drug Safety didn’t exactly savor the novelty. Instead, it served a hefty helping of legal admonishment, placing the esteemed eatery under investigation. The accusations centered around the dish’s garnish—dried ants, an ingredient that, much to the surprise of the restaurant’s owner, isn’t considered fit for consumption under Korean law. “Using ants in food requires specific approval,” an official stated with the kind of bureaucratic flair that usually accompanies a stern wag of the finger.

But let’s backtrack a bit. This whole ant affair wasn’t just a localy sourced episode of culinary daring. According to The Korea Times, these controversial critters embarked on a global journey, arriving via express mail from afar between April 2021 and November 2024. By December of the previous year, the restaurant had dished out approximately 12,000 anthill-inspired servings, racking up a revenue that translated to about 120 million Korean won, around 3.24 million baht. Not too shabby for a dessert that had critics buzzing with mixed reviews.

Interestingly, many patrons embraced the dish, hailing it as a cutting-edge gastronomic escapade. But while adventurous eaters may have bitten, South Korean law wasn’t so easily impressed. Only a handful of insects—your silkworm pupae, locusts, grasshoppers, and mealworms—get the official nod for nibbling.

Despite the owner’s claims of ignorance, the law is less forgiving, dangling potential penalties that could swat the unwary out of the kitchen, with fines up to 50 million Korean won or, dare we say, a sojourn in prison.

Not all countries munch with such discretion. In Thailand, for instance, bites of fried crickets, grasshoppers, and ant eggs grace roadside food stalls with aplomb. Similarly, Mexico delights in chapulines and escamoles, turning these insects into cherished culinary staples.

And this isn’t South Korea’s first peculiar food halt. Just last year, a gusty alert against munching on fried toothpicks—fashioned from sweet potato and corn starch—raised eyebrows and potentially saved stomachs. The sweet-sorrowed consequence? Overindulgence in ingredients like sorbitol might lead to more than just gastronomical distress.

As for the ant sorbet, beloved by the bold and questionable by the cautious, it now sees its fate teeter on the edge of legality. Prosecutors are left to ponder the delicate balance between culinary creativity and compliance with food safety standards.

So, what’s next for our ambitious ant-infused dining house, once the darling of the daring palate? Only time—and the law—will tell if these audacious culinary experiments ultimately find themselves back on the menu or relegated to adventurous anecdotes of the past.