New York foodies are fickle. One week everyone is lined up for a viral croissant, the next they’re obsessing over a window-service taco stand in Queens. But The Black Ant East Village has managed to do something much harder than just trending for fifteen minutes; it’s stayed relevant by serving stuff that actually makes people lean back and say, "Wait, am I really eating this?"
Most "exotic" restaurants feel like a gimmick. You go once, take a photo of the weird thing on your plate, and never go back because the food actually tastes like cardboard. This place is different. Located at 60 Second Avenue, it’s a spot that manages to balance high-end contemporary Mexican cuisine with the pre-Hispanic tradition of entomophagy—the practice of eating insects. Honestly, it’s not just a dare. It’s a legitimate culinary choice that highlights flavors you can’t get from a standard steak or piece of salmon.
The kitchen is led by Chef Mario Hernandez. He isn't just throwing bugs on a plate to get a reaction from NYU students. He's pulling from his roots in Cuernavaca, Mexico. He understands that The Black Ant East Village isn't just a name; it’s an ingredient list. If you walk in expecting a standard chips-and-salsa joint, you’re in for a shock. But if you walk in looking for smoky, earthy, and complex flavors, you’re exactly where you need to be.
What’s Actually On The Menu At The Black Ant East Village?
Forget the idea of a whole fried cricket staring back at you with its little beady eyes—well, mostly. The genius of the menu here is how the insects are integrated. Think of them as spices or textures.
One of the heavy hitters is the Croquetas de Chapulin. These are grasshopper croquettes. They are crunchy on the outside and creamy on the inside, served with a dollop of flavorful aioli. If nobody told you there were grasshoppers involved, you’d just think it was a really savory, earthy mushroom-style fritter. The insects provide a nutty, toasted flavor that grounds the richness of the cheese and potato.
Then there’s the Tacos de Enchilada de Grasshopper. They’re spicy. They’re tangy. They have a crunch that you usually only get from perfectly fried pork skin. But it’s lighter. It feels cleaner.
The Infamous Black Ant Salt
You can't talk about this place without talking about the salt. It’s called sal de hormiga. They harvest leaf-cutter ants, toast them, grind them up, and mix them with salt and spices. This isn't just a seasoning; it’s the restaurant’s signature. You’ll find it rimming the glasses of their famous margaritas.
💡 You might also like: Why Every Mom and Daughter Photo You Take Actually Matters
The flavor is hard to describe if you haven't had it. It’s slightly acidic. It’s got a kick of umami that lingers on the back of your tongue. It makes a standard salt rim feel incredibly boring and one-dimensional. Some people say it tastes like ginger; others swear it has a citrusy finish. Basically, it's nature's MSG.
It Is Not Just About The Bugs
Look, if you’re squeamish, you can still eat here and have a world-class meal. Seriously.
The menu leans heavily into coastal and central Mexican flavors that have nothing to do with the insect world. Their seafood is consistently fresh. The Aguachile is bright and sharp, cutting through the humid New York summer air if you're sitting at one of their outdoor tables. They do a braised short rib that falls apart if you even look at it too hard.
What makes The Black Ant East Village stand out in a neighborhood saturated with Mexican spots like Rosario’s or the high-end Cosme is the atmosphere. It’s dark. It’s moody. The walls are adorned with black ant motifs that feel more like street art than corporate branding. It’s the kind of place where you take a date if you want to see if they’re adventurous or if they’re going to complain about the menu for two hours.
The drinks program is equally intense. Their Mezcal list is deep. We’re talking small-batch, smoky spirits that taste like they were bottled in a dusty shed in Oaxaca. The bartenders actually know their stuff. If you ask for a recommendation based on what you usually drink—say, an Old Fashioned—they won't just give you a Mezcal version; they’ll find a specific agave profile that mimics those caramel and oak notes.
Why Eating Insects Actually Matters
We’ve got to talk about the sustainability aspect, even if it feels a bit "preachy" at times. But here, it’s just a fact.
📖 Related: Sport watch water resist explained: why 50 meters doesn't mean you can dive
- Insects require a fraction of the water that cattle do.
- They produce significantly less greenhouse gas.
- The protein content is through the roof.
In 2026, as food costs fluctuate and we become more aware of the environmental footprint of our ribeye steaks, places like The Black Ant East Village aren't just trendy—they're prophetic. Chef Hernandez has often pointed out that in many parts of the world, this isn't "weird" food. It’s just food. It’s traditional. It’s what people have eaten for thousands of years before industrial farming took over the planet.
Navigating The Experience: Tips From The Locals
If you're planning a visit, don't just wing it. This place gets packed, especially on Friday and Saturday nights when the East Village energy is at a fever pitch.
- Make a reservation. Seriously. Use Resy or call them. Walking in at 8:00 PM on a weekend is a bold move that usually ends in standing on the sidewalk for an hour.
- Start with the Smokey Jalapeño Margarita. It uses that ant salt. It’s the perfect introduction to the flavor profile of the house.
- Try the Tlayuda. It’s basically a Mexican pizza, but better. It’s huge, shareable, and layered with flavors that hit every part of your palate.
- Don't skip dessert. They often do interesting things with chocolate and—you guessed it—more traditional Mexican spices that might include a hint of something unexpected.
The service is generally "East Village cool." This means it’s efficient and knowledgeable, but don't expect the fawning attention you’d get at a Midtown steakhouse. They’re busy, they’re loud, and they’re part of the vibe.
The Reality Of The Price Point
Is it expensive? It's New York. So, yeah, it's not a $3 taco truck.
Expect to pay around $18–$22 for appetizers and anywhere from $28 to $45 for main courses. Cocktails are in the $16–$20 range. For a full dinner for two with drinks, you’re looking at $150 minimum, likely closer to $200 if you really dive into the Mezcal list.
Is it worth it? If you want a meal that you’ll actually remember a year from now, yes. Most $200 dinners in Manhattan blend together after a while. You’ll remember the night you ate grasshoppers at The Black Ant East Village.
👉 See also: Pink White Nail Studio Secrets and Why Your Manicure Isn't Lasting
Misconceptions and Fears
People think the food is going to be "dirty" or "slimy." It’s the opposite. Insects, when prepared correctly (especially when toasted or fried), are dry and crisp. They act more like a puffed grain or a toasted nut.
Another misconception is that it’s just a tourist trap. While it definitely attracts visitors, the backbone of the business is locals. People who live in the neighborhood come back for the consistency of the kitchen. The flavors are sophisticated. The use of mole—which can take days to prepare—shows a level of respect for Mexican culinary history that you won't find at a gimmick restaurant.
How To Recreate The Vibe At Home
If you can't make it to 2nd Ave, you can actually buy sal de gusano or sal de hormiga online. It's a game-changer for your home bar.
Try rimming a glass with a mix of salt, chili powder, and ground toasted insects. Make a simple Margarita with fresh lime juice, agave nectar, and a decent Tequila Blanco. It won't be exactly the same as sitting in the dimly lit dining room of The Black Ant East Village, but it’ll give you a glimpse into why people are so obsessed with these flavors.
Actionable Steps for Your Visit
To get the most out of your experience at The Black Ant, follow this specific progression for your meal to ensure you don't overwhelm your palate too early.
1. Order the "Yum Kaax" cocktail. It’s corn-based, savory, and sweet. It sets the stage for the earthy meal ahead.
2. Share the Guacamole. They top it with dried ants. It’s the easiest way to "break the ice" with the concept because the creamy avocado masks the texture while letting you taste the smokiness of the ants.
3. Go for the Duck Manchamanteles. This is a classic "table cloth stainer" mole. It’s fruity, spicy, and incredibly deep in flavor. It showcases the kitchen's ability to handle complex sauces.
4. Ask for a Mezcal flight. If the bar isn't slammed, ask the server to pick three distinct Mezcals—one smoky, one floral, and one earthy. It’s a masterclass in agave.
The Black Ant remains a pillar of the East Village dining scene because it refuses to play it safe. In a city that is increasingly becoming a collection of polished, predictable chains, we need places that serve bugs. We need places that smell like smoke and toasted insects. It’s a reminder that food is supposed to be an adventure, not just fuel.