The Case of the Casu Marzu

As I mentioned in the previous blog, “Certain [food] producers have created a brand identity based on tradition, to the extent that substitution won’t do.” In Sardinia, you’ll find an expression of this traditional identity in local, organic products like Casu marzu, a sheep’s milk cheese that has passed from the state of fermentation to decomposition just clear of toxicity. To make Casu marzu, aficionados deliberately introduce maggots into the cheese which proceed to burrow through their new home, eating and shitting until the cheese achieves a flavor that will bring tears to your eyes and spasms to your throat. While popular, the cheese is illegal in its country of origin, and on the black market fetches twice the price of ordinary (read: fermented, not rotten) pecorino, For the cheese to be safe the maggots must still be alive, though some people like to suffocate them in a bag before dining.

While traveling in Sardinia with friends some years ago, I had the opportunity to try this unique cheese, without any prior knowledge of it, at the home of my old Sardinian roommate in the small town of San Vero Milis. Though Wikipedia claims the worms can jump up to six inches, we did not experience this phenomenon, as we were likely too quick for the little buggers. Still, it seems likely that they would react in such a way when threatened with being devoured along with their pungent home.

This incident found its way into my Italian adventure novel, The Amateurs (2001). In the following scene the American protagonist, Nick, while traveling with his Sardinian friend, Sergio, suddenly comes face to face with the perils of Sardinian tradition at the home of Sergio’s cousin, Armando, in Alghero.


"Here is some sausage and fruit, and I've saved a little surprise. I have some special cheese. The kind you don't find on the mainland," Armando said, giving Sergio a wink.

"You will love this cheese, Nick. It is not like most cheese that does not have taste or character. It is typical of Sardinia."

Sergio was proud of his homeland and never failed to impress upon Nick the superiority of all things Sardinian. Nick enjoyed Italian cooking and, from what he had tried of it so far, Sardinian food was no different. He ate some of the pork sausage, lightly seasoned with spices and herbs, and sipped the glass of dry red wine Armando had poured for him. Both were good, and he looked forward to trying the cheese. Armando cut a slice for each of them from the wheel and put it on their plates.

Nick noticed how the cheese was slightly caved in, rough on the surface, and somewhat wet around the edges where it sat on the plate. It was probably a strong, moldy cheese like Gorgonzola, which he had grown to like in small quantities.

Armando casually popped a slice in his mouth along with some sausage, while Sergio ate his with care.

"How it is good! Just like on the farm," Sergio said.

Nick followed their example, breaking off a small piece to start. Just before he put the cheese in his mouth, he noticed movement. Looking closer, he saw a maggot undulating its tiny body to a silent and personal soundtrack. Had it not been for the creature’s small black head, he might not have noticed, as the creamy yellow worm matched the cheese exactly in color. So there was a worm in the cheese! No matter, he would chew it and the stray parasite would decompose in the acid of his stomach. Still, he found the maggot’s movement unnerving. He gave a closer inspection and noticed that fully half the cheese was maggots. With the fascination that anticipates horror, he watched their tubular bodies writhe and twist in and out of their meal and home, like the tentacles of a terrestrial sea anemone.

"Don't look at it, Nick, just eat it."

Nick noted that Sergio was not smiling when he said this. Nor was there any laughter to indicate that it was a joke. It was clear that both Sergio and Armando were very fond of the cheese and were waiting impatiently for him to join them in this rare feast. Nick knew his refusal to eat this typical Sardinian product would be considered an insult to their culture. To avoid losing their trust or goodwill, especially after making a fool of himself in the cave, Nick popped the cheese in his mouth, chewed with deliberation, and looked them in the eye. Meanwhile, inside his mouth, his taste buds were being violently assaulted by a substance he knew he should not swallow. The cheese was a culinary force to be reckoned with, introducing him to flavors he never imagined possible and did not want to revisit. Had he expected rotten, maggot-ridden cheese to be any different?

He reached for his wine in a manner that would appear casual.

"Don't drink the wine, Nick, it mixes badly with the cheese and ruins the taste,” Sergio advised, picking a stray maggot from his teeth.

"It's good isn't it," Armando said.

"Yes, very flavorful," Nick said, suppressing a gag.

"It's a shame, really, that it’s illegal. Just because of the occasional death from bad preparation. Everybody knows to make sure the worms are still alive. Still, if the health inspector came he would have us all arrested. Ma, people still sell it like this and I'm willing to take the risk. I'd rather be arrested for cheese than anything else I've done," Sergio said.

"Yes, you have to wait until it gets good and rotten,” Armando said. “The maggots provide that deep flavor. They eat and shit and something inside them turns it from a good cheese to something truly delightful."

Armando was almost giddy with pleasure when he spoke about the cheese. He cut himself another generous slice and rolled it around in his mouth with his tongue, chewing slowly and with obvious satisfaction.

"Go on, have another slice, ragazzi. It's had to sit for many months to get this way. A real delicacy for a special occasion."

Sergio helped himself and passed the plate to Nick.

"No, c'è, I'm fine. The truth is I'm not that hungry, and I don't want to spoil dinner.”

“You know best,” Sergio told him.

Nick thought about making a joke about spoiled cheese and spoiled dinner but he kept his mouth shut. He told himself he did not want another slice, not because he couldn’t handle the maggots, but because the cheese was really too strong.

"I prefer a younger cheese," he told them, diplomatically.

While Sergio and Armando conversed in Sardinian, Nick could not help but stare at the cheese. How many maggots did he count? No, he did not want to count. Best to just forget it, he told himself.


Like Armando in the book, our Sardinian hosts were very gracious, inviting us into their home and sharing with us their delicious local food, including flatbread, sun-dried tomatoes, fresh pasta, olives, and myrtle liquor. As for Casu marzu, it remains a personal taste. Later in the trip, one of my friends who was keen on traditional products insisted on buying a contraband wheel of Casu marzu to snack on as we traveled. Not a bad idea, since we didn’t have to worry about it spoiling in the car. Still, because we were never sure if it was too rotten, we ended up throwing it out after only a couple of slices. Knowing what I do now about this surreal product, I am glad we did. Though a unique experience, I won’t be eating Casu marzu any time soon.


To learn more about Casu marzu, click here.

Locals Only?

In the past few years, a debate has developed over the benefits and drawbacks of eating local versus organic food. In some cases there need not be a conflict of choice between the two, particularly in California where the climate and soil favors cultivation of a large variety of crops, and where organic produce is readily available at local markets. But if a choice has to be made, I would favor local produce over imported organic produce. The cost of transport, which is currently externalized by the food industry, makes it such that eating imported organic produce has a significant impact on global warming. Though I disagree with the methods of production of factory farms, they nonetheless control the market and are more difficult to challenge through individual choice. The fight against factory farms is by necessity waged at the policy level with the Federal Government, particularly in regard to the Farm Bill.

In my decision to buy local produce, I had to ask myself what made local produce special, compared to other products. In other words, why do I insist on local organic produce, and not on local sustainably-manufactured goods? Probably because good soil and climate can’t be outsourced, whereas factories can, and, as I discussed in a previous post, our manufacturing industry has been almost entirely outsourced. In other words, aside from specialty products, it can be hard to come by local sustainably-manufactured goods. But what about other foodstuffs? Well, in some cases certain producers have created a brand identity based on tradition, to the extent that substitution won’t do. Cheese and wine often fall into this category because they are tied to place by their unique taste. Local water, weather patterns, etc. influence the development of the crops that the cows eat, and the growth cycles and sugar content of the grapes. These products also rely on certain methods and techniques of production that are seldom reproducible. As for produce in general, while peaches may taste different from field to field, tree to tree, or fruit to fruit, the price of a peach doesn’t vary much within each growing season, and has no added value beyond the cost of harvest labor. So while I will buy cheese imported from Europe (notwithstanding our happy California cows), I can wait for California strawberries, oranges, apples, etc. to come into season. And because California wine is as good as any in the world, due to our favorable climate, I see no need to imported wine from France. The rule for me is: if I can find a local substitute, I will.

Personally, I decided that I wouldn’t eat produce imported from, for example, Chile, and would instead eat locally, seasonally and organically, when possible. This is not as much of a sacrifice as some might imagine, given that I live next to the Salinas Valley, the so-called “Salad Bowl of America.” But for people who live in Maine, locally and seasonally means subsisting on blueberries, potatoes, apples, and maple syrup. In this case, it makes sense to adopt the “more local than . . .” rule where, for example, Maine continues to import peaches from Georgia and oranges from Florida, and does not import them out of season from Chile and Brazil, respectively. A problem arises when there are no “more local than . . .” markets available, and California, for example, must ship produce a few thousand miles across the continent. The problem is this: I pay the same price as someone from Maine for lettuce grown ten miles from my house. In other words, I (along with other people living close to the source of production) am subsidizing lettuce consumption in Maine. In my opinion, Mainers can pay a premium for what is rare to them, as I would be willing to pay more for Maine lobster, if I couldn’t get lobster off the coast of California.

While local consumers in the United States subsidize the transportation cost of produce for distant markets, consumers across the board don’t pay the true cost of labor to harvest crops. Farmers often employ farm labor contractors (FLCs) to oversee the workers who harvest their fields. Worker wages, paid either piece rate or hourly, are low to keep costs down for consumers and profits up for farmers, contractors, wholesale distributors, and restaurant and grocery chains. In addition, a majority of California’s agricultural workers have no health insurance and seldom visit the doctor, though they suffer from a variety of health problems, including obesity. Some of them are also subject to abuses by their employers and opportunists who provide housing, food, and rides at exorbitant rates, as is the case with tomato harvesters in Florida. In order to improve the quality of life of farm workers, we as consumers will have to pay more for the produce we buy. But, since we are the last point of the distribution chain, worker pay must be raised by growers and contractors, which depends on wholesalers, restaurants and grocery chains paying more for produce and either passing the price on to the consumer, or marginally reducing profits.

We also do not pay the true cost of water to grow our food. According to the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS), in 2000, irrigation accounted for 40% of total water withdrawals in the United States, and 65% of total water withdrawals, excluding thermoelectric power. The water farmers use is, in large part, subsidized by the Federal Government. Notwithstanding fraud, these subsidies increase grower profits while lowering the cost of produce for the consumer. If these subsidies were reduced, or eliminated, we would see a dramatic increase in food prices. While that is not a desirable outcome for the consumer, we cannot ignore that water subsidies create a wasteful attitude toward what is an increasingly rare resource. Some solutions to this problem include using reclaimed water on crops, repairing and replacing outdated or damaged irrigation infrastructure, and eliminating the lawn.

According to a study by Cristina Milesi of NASA’s Ames Research Center, the largest irrigated crop (in surface area) in the United States is the lawn, covering about 128,000 square kilometers in all. “Even conservatively,” Milesi says, “I estimate there are three times more acres of lawns in the U.S. than irrigated corn.” In spite of the lawn’s status as an icon of the American Dream, it is also an environmental nightmare; and while I respect the Scots and their kilts, I can’t forgive them for inventing golf, given it is the most water-intensive and environmentally destructive game on earth, converting large tracts of natural landscape into lawns. According to the USGS, in 2000, "Irrigation remained the largest use of freshwater in the United States." Irrigation of residential and commercial lawns, golf courses, cemeteries, and other landscaping made a significant contribution to this use. Consumers and businesses alike could significantly reduce their water consumption by simple removing their lawns, and related water intensive landscaping, and planting native vegetation that is adapted to and can survive natural climate cycles with little or no additional irrigation. Alternatively, domestic lawns can be converted into gardens, allowing households to grow their own food.


Resources:

Click here for David Lighthall’s article “The Poor Health of Farm Workers." Mr. Lighthall is the executive director of the California Institute of Rural Studies.
Click here for Barry Estabrook’s article “The Price of Tomatoes: Keeping Slavery Alive in Florida.”
The Environmental Working Group article, "Taking From the Taxpayers," provides more info on water subsidies and fraud.
Click here for more on Cristina Milesi’s satellite lawn research at NASA’s Ames Research Center.
For water use figures for 2000, visit the USGS website.

Saúde!

As they say in Brazil: Saúde! To your health! Keeping healthy depends on exercising the mind and body, getting enough rest, and eating well. For the purpose of this blog, let’s look at diet. Growing up, my mom prepared home-cooked meals that she served every day promptly at five o’clock. She cooked a lot of vegetarian meals, and when we did eat meat, it was always served in moderation and confined to poultry or pork. Dinner always included a salad, so we could get our raw vegetables. She also prepared several, at the time, exotic dishes, such as Indian curry and Chinese stir-fry. Eating habits, along with our morals and beliefs, come from our parents. Because of the tradition established by my mom, when I went away to college and lived on my own, I cooked for myself and followed a regular dinner schedule. I cooked many of my mom’s recipes and also invented my own. I always cooked more than I needed, so I would have leftovers. This saved me from having to cook everyday and provided me with surplus time to study and write.

As a kid, I though it was normal that everyone went home to eat dinner with their family at a certain hour. In fact, I took it for granted that there would be dinner waiting on the table for me every day at five. Nor did I realize, though it has left a lasting impression on me, that not only was I getting healthy food in my stomach, but also valuable and consistent contact with my family, the so-called “quality-time” we hear so much about. Well, we called it “dinner,” a time when not only did we eat but also discussed ideas, told stories, and shared the latest news and events of our day. And even if we didn’t always talk deep, we still enjoyed each other’s company. A childhood friend, with whom I still keep in contact, later told me that what he liked about my family was that we always ate together. He said he remembered how, as the clock neared five, I would abruptly excuse myself in the middle of some game or activity we were involved in and make a beat home to dinner. It seemed that what I had taken for granted was not as common as one might have thought. Certainly, there were many families who, because of work and/or lack of tradition, did not eat home-cooked meals together, surviving instead on processed food and eating individually when it suited their personal schedules. In most cases, they could have chosen differently.

Food is to the group as the breath is to the individual. Food brings people together for the most noble of purposes: to give fuel to the body to be transformed into emotions, thoughts, communication, work, and play. When people break bread together they are more likely to listen to one another and cooperate, for eating is the definitive communal activity. By preparing and sharing food with others, you are giving them your love.

Cooking is, furthermore, an art form expressed through the chemistry of food and flavor, the timing and technique of preparation, and the aesthetics of presentation. Though the culinary world is steeped in accepted standards and historical traditions, new recipes are invented daily by creative cooks out of inspiration, necessity, or both. Indeed, this is how cooking has always been: a way to use the raw ingredients at hand to maximum benefit to produce a variety of dishes that are both visually appealing and tasty. In these modern times of refrigeration and supermarkets, it is easy to forget that the traditional human diet was based on local and seasonally available agricultural products. Many traditional recipes were created to prevent excessive crop yields from going to waste, and to make maximum use of livestock. For example: what do you do with an overabundance of ripe tomatoes? You make tomato sauce, the staple of southern Italian cooking. And a plethora of ripe avocados? That’s right: Viva guacamole! How about a bumper catch of cod? Right again: bacalau! Or extra cow’s milk fresh off the udder? Camembert cheese, anyone? How about all those messy intestines: why, stuff them with meat and make sausages! In fact, many of the dishes we love, both traditional and modern, have come about through improvisation. When I am missing a key ingredient to a recipe, I’ll find a substitute, adding a new twist to an old dish. For example, taking a break from writing for lunch, I took a bowl of pinto beans I had used to make nachos and poured them in with my leftover penne al pesto, to make a delicious pasta e fagioli (pasta and beans), to which I added fresh heirloom tomatoes. When I found myself without mango juice for my mahi-mahi marinade, I substituted orange juice, and then apple juice, and was pleased to note that each was tasty in its own unique way.

Some people say they don’t like cooking, or complain that they don’t know how. If the former, they are missing out: if the latter, there are far too many great cookbooks and cooking shows for this to be a hindrance. Then there are those who complain they don’t have the time. While it is true that time is in short supply in the modern world, this is often a result of the choices we make. Given that eating is essential, cooking is always time well spent. Perhaps the biggest secret about cooking is that, in addition to feeding yourself, it’s fun! I find the same zen satisfaction in chopping zucchini or mixing up a good marinade, as I do composing a nice sentence or meditating. While cooking, my worries slip away, and I think only about preparing something tasty and beautiful to put in my mouth. I turn on the music, pour myself a beer, and build my transient work of art.

In addition to being a fun, creative, and potentially healthy activity, cooking at home is both cheaper than eating out, you can hand-pick the best ingredients, and, if you are a skilled cook or follow a good recipe, it will likely taste better, too. Having worked as a waiter, I can pass on the following inside information about restaurants:

1. When a special is on offer, in many cases it is because the main ingredient of the dish, usually the meat, poultry, or fish, is old and they want to sell it before it spoils.
2. Unless a restaurant is high-end and bases its reputation on quality, the ingredients are frequently frozen and not premium: i.e. certified organic, local, sustainable, etc.
3. The quality of the food goes down with the volume of business. In other words, when a restaurant is slammed, there is no love in the food, meaning it wasn’t done with care and consequently won’t taste as good.
4. Many kitchens do not observe proper hygiene. Cooks pick their nose and handle the food, food is dropped on the floor and tossed into the pan, old ingredients are used so they won’t be wasted, and your food may be fouled by resentful cooks and waiters.

Commercial cooking will never be as good as personally-prepared, small-scale meals. Because of my behind-the-scenes restaurant experience, I rarely eat out. Cooking at home is a process that allows me to maintain an intimacy with the food I eat. I can use premium quality, fresh ingredients and save both money and time, because I will cook several portions. I am also likely to have ingredients left over for other meals. If I have guests, this means I can feed at least three people other than myself. If I am alone, I can freeze my leftovers or save them for a tasty hot lunch the following day, and/or another dinner. Now some people, particularly Italians and my brother, would never dream of eating leftovers. Nevertheless, I believe some dishes taste better the next day because the flavors have had more time to blend with one another and are enhanced as a result. For those of you who are averse to leftovers, just consider that most processed food is leftover; the food is processed, i.e. cooked, and then frozen for you to reheat as leftovers without the love. Though it would be nice to have fresh food everyday, home-cooked leftovers are a practical solution to eating well on a busy schedule.

Imagine you had the foresight to prepare a nice meal on Sunday and have saved some leftovers for lunch and/or dinner the following day. This will make it possible for you to cook every other day, or every two days. If you rotate properly and freeze the food in single portions, as a friend of mine does, then you won’t get bored eating the same thing and will always have home-cooked meals on hand just when you need them. The question now is where should you eat your tasty lunch? The lunch break is an important part of the day, not just to feed up, but also to relax and clear you mind from your work and personal obligations. Some people spend their lunch hour running errands and then wolfing down some processed and/or fast food in the car or at their desk. While a busy schedule can’t be helped, it would be better to take a longer lunch if possible and stay a little later at work, or come in earlier. Wolves have a feast and famine diet, whereas you have a stockpile of leftovers and weekly access to the local farmers market and the supermarket. So with leftovers in hand, quickly heated in the office microwave, I suggest you find a place you enjoy, perhaps outside in a nearby park or by the ocean, weather permitting. If this isn’t possible, find a quiet place at work, preferably near a window, and enjoy your lunch along with a good book or some music from your mp3 player. Alternatively, you might want some company while you eat, so why not invite a coworker or a friend to join you? Bon appétit!