If you meet Lucy, you quickly understand that Sauterelle was never just a product.
It was a mood.
A movement.
A creative rebellion disguised as broth.
Lucy is a musician, a trained chef, a brand builder – and now the founder of Sauterelle, an insect-based food company built around one deceptively simple product: grasshopper broth.
But to understand Sauterelle, you have to understand Lucy first.
Because Sauterelle is not just a brand. It is an extension of her.
The Creative Thread: Music, Food, and Rebellion
Lucy does not compartmentalize her identities. Music, cooking, branding, insects – they are not separate chapters. They are expressions of the same impulse.
Connection.
She described her work as a kind of rebellion – not against people, but against stagnation. Against sameness. Against systems that stop asking questions. In music, that rebellion shows up as experimentation. In food, it shows up as challenging what we consider normal or edible.
Before founding Sauterelle, Lucy was deeply immersed in music and creative work. During COVID, she unintentionally lost weight while eating more intentionally, and it shifted something. Food stopped being background noise and became a tool for energy, for health, for expression.
That shift led her to culinary school, where craft met discipline and experimentation became skill.
Insects entered the picture not as a stunt, but as an ingredient loaded with possibility. Nutrient-dense. Sustainable. Underexplored. Culturally rich.
Sauterelle emerged from that convergence: flavor, sustainability, and aesthetic elevation woven together by someone unwilling to accept that food has to look the way it always has.
Sauterelle’s Journey: From First Spark to Delicious Reality
Sauterelle did not arrive fully formed. It evolved the way most real food products do – through experiments, constraints, pivots, and small wins that only make sense in hindsight.
Lucy did not set out to start a “bug company.” Her entry point was personal.
During COVID, she unintentionally lost weight while eating more intentionally. That shift changed how she thought about food – not just as pleasure, but as a daily system that shapes energy, health, and identity. It led her to culinary school, where craft met discipline and experimentation became skill.
Somewhere in that creative expansion, insects entered the frame.
Inspired by chapulines from Oaxaca, Lucy imagined a grasshopper broth – something transportable, usable, and genuinely delicious. The first concept was liquid. But liquid products come with cold-chain complexity, shipping weight, and shelf stability challenges that can quietly crush a small brand.
So she adapted.
The broth shifted to a dry format. Lighter shipping. Longer shelf life. More flexibility. Then came the deeper refinement: how should this actually function in a real kitchen?
After testing and iteration, Lucy landed on a tea bag-style format that matched the broth’s lighter, delicate profile. At the same time, the brand itself was becoming intentional.
Lucy was deliberate about not making Sauterelle look like “bug food.” The elevated European aesthetic was strategy, positioning grasshoppers the way we position other refined ingredients. Not because perception is superficial, but because perception determines what people are willing to try.
This was not about hiding insects. It was about refusing to let insects be treated as a joke.
Why Sauterelle Looks Nothing Like “Bug Food”
The branding was intentional.
Sauterelle does not lean into shock value or novelty. Its aesthetic is refined, European, and quietly elegant. Lucy collaborated with her parents, who bring marketing and strategy expertise, to build a visual identity that positions grasshoppers the way we position caviar, anchovies, or truffles.
Delicacy. Not dare.
Luxury. Not survival food.
That distinction matters deeply in edible insects. Language shapes perception. Perception shapes willingness. And willingness determines whether something becomes normalized or remains niche.
Sauterelle refuses to look like a gimmick. It looks like it belongs in your pantry.
The Product: Grasshopper Broth That Wins
Lucy’s flagship product is grasshopper broth inspired by chapulines from Oaxaca. It was never meant to be a stunt. It was meant to be good. And it is.
When I play “Bug or No Bug?” at events, Sauterelle’s broth consistently gets mistaken for the non-insect option. And it wins.
That detail matters. It reveals the gap between expectation and experience. When insects are integrated thoughtfully, they do not scream “bug.” They deepen flavor. They add complexity. They work.
The first time I tasted it, I was struck by how light it felt. There is depth without heaviness. A subtle umami note, almost like a clean coastal salinity, and a warmth that lingers without overpowering. It does not scream “protein.” It does not scream “insect.” It simply tastes like something intentionally crafted. It taste like wellness feels; it’s exactly what I’d want to sip on a sick day (or any day).
Lucy sees the broth not as a novelty, but as a culinary ingredient. Something chefs can layer into sauces and reductions. Something home cooks can experiment with. Something that belongs in kitchens, not just on sustainability panels.
In tasting settings, it routinely surprises people. It is the one they assume is “normal.” It is the one they go back for seconds of. It disarms skepticism not through argument, but through flavor.
And that may be the most important point of all.
Normalization does not happen through data alone. It happens when something tastes good enough that the ingredient stops being the headline.
Choosing to Grow Intentionally
Building Sauterelle has been an exercise in creative ambition meeting real-world pacing.
From the beginning, Lucy has approached the brand as something curated, not mass-produced. Each batch, each demo, each conversation has been intentional. Growth, for her, is not about constant expansion. It is about alignment.
Sauterelle remains available because Lucy wants the product in people’s hands. But she is equally clear that availability does not mean acceleration at all costs.
She is building slowly. Thoughtfully. Responsively.
In an industry that often talks about scale before stability, that kind of pacing is its own quiet rebellion.
Sauterelle was never meant to be rushed.
It is meant to be right.
The Big Ask: Visibility
If Lucy had a million dollars tomorrow, she would not spend it on manufacturing equipment. She would pour it into advertising: into campaigns, into cultural positioning, and into making edible insects visible.
She talks about iconic marketing arcs with a kind of reverence: “Got Milk?” The reframing of kale. The way a single campaign can move a food from fringe to mainstream. She referenced research showing how dramatically celebrity endorsement increases willingness to try insect-based foods. If budget were no constraint, she would hire a high-profile advocate and make insect protein unmistakably cool.
The barrier right now is not flavor; it is familiarity.
But Lucy is not waiting for a seven-figure check. Her focus over the next few years is simpler and arguably more powerful: demos and activations. In-person tastings. Outdoor events. Media appearances. News segments. Real faces trying real broth and realizing it tastes like food.
If any producers are reading this: here is your segment.
What Comes Next for Sauterelle
When I asked Lucy what Sauterelle has taught her about herself, she paused. She does not have a polished founder takeaway. She is in a transitory season and the lessons are still forming.
“Sauterelle is a boat,” she said. “It’s taking me somewhere but I don’t know where that is yet. We’ve been stopping at some fun islands along the way…”
That metaphor says more than any growth metric could. Sauterelle is not a finished story. It is a live one.
And perhaps that is exactly what edible insects need right now: not perfection, not scale at all costs, but steady cultural presence.
If insect protein is going to become normalized, it will not happen through data alone. It will happen when flavor outpaces fear, when branding outpaces bias, and when someone tastes something and forgets what they were supposed to resist.
The industry will need scientists, farmers, regulators, and processors. But it will also need artists.
Lucy is one of them.
And I’m proud to call her a friend.
Gratitude to Sauterelle & Lucy
Thank you to Lucy for her openness, creativity, and willingness to share. Stories like this are why I blog on Bugible.
If you are curious about edible insects, culinary experimentation, or supporting creative founders in sustainable food, keep an eye on Sauterelle.
Sometimes the most interesting journeys are the ones still unfolding.
Curious?