You may look at me and see a plant, and you would be correct. But my relationship with the world is... different. My home in the boggy, nitrogen-poor soils means that the typical buffet of nutrients available to your average houseplant is simply not on the menu for me. While my green leaves do perform photosynthesis to create energy from sunlight, that is merely the appetizer. My main course must be procured through other means. The insects you see are not just visitors; they are my fertilizer. They provide the essential nitrogen and other nutrients I need to thrive and build new, healthy pitchers. So, when you consider feeding me, you are acting as a surrogate for the nutrient-poor environment I am adapted to.
My preferences are quite specific, honed by millennia of evolution. The ideal offering is a recently deceased, soft-bodied insect. A small fly, a gnat, or a spider no larger than one-third the size of my pitcher is a perfect portion. The prey must be soft so that my digestive enzymes can easily break it down. If you are providing the meal, gently drop the insect directly into one of my pitchers. I can only digest one insect per pitcher at a time, so please spread the bounty around. A single bug per month during my active growing season (spring and summer) is a feast that will sustain me magnificently. In autumn and winter, I am resting, and my appetite wanes considerably; feeding is largely unnecessary.
I must be very clear about what you should never, ever give me. I am a specialist predator of insects, not an omnivore. Human food is poison to me. Do not be tempted to drop bits of hamburger, fruit, or any other processed food into my pitcher. These items will rot, putrefy, and cause my delicate digestive organ to succumb to bacterial infection, turning it black and killing it. Furthermore, never "help" me by pouring my digestive enzymes out or adding fertilizers to my soil. My roots are extremely sensitive and will burn from the concentration of minerals, causing systemic failure. I am designed for a specific diet; please do not experiment with another.
Once you have provided an appropriate meal, your job is done. My process is slow and methodical. I will secrete my own digestive fluids to break down the insect. Please resist the urge to poke, prod, or otherwise disturb the pitcher during this time. Forcing the insect down or adding water can dilute my enzymes and hinder the process. Also, do not be alarmed if a pitcher turns brown and dies after digesting a few meals; this is a natural part of my life cycle. I will simply grow a new, more efficient one to take its place. Trust in my design. I have been perfecting this art for a very, very long time.
