We ordered a salad, but there were tiny black specks in the food

We Just Wanted Dinner. What We Found on the Salad Sent Us to the Hospital.

It was supposed to be a relaxing evening—just two friends catching up at a cozy, trendy little restaurant tucked in the heart of the city. The lights were dim, the music soft, and the aroma of freshly baked bread floated through the air. Everything felt perfect.

My friend ordered a salad—something light and fresh: quinoa, avocado, and a citrus vinaigrette. I remember the plate arriving beautifully presented, with just the right splash of color. She smiled, ready to dig in. Then she froze mid-bite, her fork hovering just inches from her lips.

“Do you see that?” she asked quietly, pointing to her plate.

I leaned over, not sure what she meant. Scattered across the surface of the avocado slices were tiny black dots—almost too small to notice at first glance.

“Probably chia seeds,” I said. “Or poppy seeds. You know how these places love their fancy toppings.”

But her face had gone pale. “They’re moving,” she whispered.

That’s when everything stopped.

I leaned in closer and felt my heart skip a beat. Those weren’t seeds.

They were moving.

Tiny, glistening, transparent beads—each with a minuscule dark speck inside—crawling slowly across the lettuce leaves. Like something from a horror movie.

Insect eggs. Alive.

I recoiled in shock. My stomach churned. My friend stood up so quickly her chair scraped across the floor. She clutched her mouth, trembling.

A waiter rushed over, alarmed by the commotion. I pointed to the plate, unable to find the words. His expression shifted from confusion to dread. Another staff member joined, trying to offer explanations—maybe it was contamination, a packaging error, “very rare,” they said.

But we were done listening. My friend had already eaten a few bites. The realization hit hard—what if some had already been consumed? What kind of creature laid those eggs? Were they dangerous? Toxic? Infectious?

Panic set in. She was shaking. I called an ambulance.

At the hospital, they took it seriously. Samples were taken. Blood work done. Nausea, anxiety, and pure fear—it was all overwhelming. We were monitored closely. Luckily, the symptoms appeared to be stress-related, but they couldn’t identify the species of the eggs without lab analysis.

We stayed for hours under observation.

We were lucky.

I’m sharing this because it could happen to anyone. One moment you’re enjoying dinner, the next you’re fighting off a full-blown panic attack, fearing for your health.

Please—check your food carefully. No matter how fancy or clean the place seems. That night, we learned that sometimes danger hides in plain sight—tiny, almost invisible, and terrifyingly alive.

We haven’t gone back to restaurants since.

And every time I see a salad now, I check. Twice.