Visiting Cambodia in the height of the rainy season is a little like touring Egypt during the Ten Plagues. The sky opens up, the wind howls and the ground disgorges thousands of plump bullfrogs. Sitting at an outdoor café in Siem Reap one evening, my husband and I watched as frogs the size of softballs bounced beneath our table, ricocheting off the legs and landing everywhere but on our plates.

You could say that one man’s toad is another’s treasure — and to the Cambodians, the annual amphibian invasion means one thing: barbecue. In Khmer recipes, it’s not unusual for snakes, spiders and other creepy crawlies to end up on the grill. If anything, frogs were among the most familiar items we found on the menu at a neighborhood barbecue restaurant and beer garden (the more exotic included “cow gender in red ant sauce”).

After digging in to beef strips seasoned in lemongrass, sugar, turmeric and lime, we decided to take a chance on the seasonal specialty. When the platter of roasted toads arrived at our table, I hesitated: something about the way their arms and legs were splayed out looked almost human. But one bite into the slightly charred skin revealed a succulent piece of meat bursting with smoky-tasting juices.