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.