On the Italian island of Sardinia, adventurous eaters can sample a cheese so daring it’s banned across the European Union. Casu Marzu, which translates to “rotten cheese,” is a traditional sheep’s milk pecorino that’s fermented with the help of live insect larvae. Yes, you read that right—this cheese is intentionally infested with thousands of wriggling maggots, and locals swear it’s a delicacy. Just don’t forget your sunglasses; the larvae can jump.
The process begins innocently enough. A wheel of pecorino is left outdoors, inviting cheese flies (Piophila casei) to lay eggs inside. The hatched larvae feast on the cheese, digesting fats and proteins to create a soft, creamy texture. By the time it’s ready, the cheese is riddled with tiny tunnels and pools of liquid, known as lagrima (“tears”). The maggots, now about a centimeter long, remain alive and active, leading to the cheese’s nickname: “maggot cheese.”
Eating Casu Marzu isn’t for the faint of heart. Tradition dictates consuming it while the larvae are still alive, as dead ones indicate spoilage. Diners spread the gooey cheese on Sardinian flatbread (pane carasau) and brace for the occasional maggot leap—hence the advice to wear eye protection. The flavor? Described as intensely pungent, with a spicy kick from the larvae’s digestive enzymes.
Why bother? For Sardinians, Casu Marzu is a cultural icon, a link to pastoral traditions dating back centuries. It’s often served at weddings and celebrations, symbolizing vitality and resilience. Some even claim it’s an aphrodisiac, though that might just be the adrenaline talking.
The EU banned Casu Marzu in 2002 over food safety concerns. The maggots can survive stomach acid, potentially causing intestinal infections if ingested alive. Yet, Sardinian producers skirt the law by selling it as a “traditional” product, often under the counter. Authorities turn a blind eye, treating it like a culinary speakeasy.
Scientists, meanwhile, are torn. While the larvae pose health risks, studies suggest the cheese’s unique fermentation might offer probiotic benefits. It’s a classic case of “risky but rewarding,” assuming your reward isn’t a trip to the emergency room.
So, next time you’re in Sardinia, consider trying Casu Marzu—if you dare. It’s a bold reminder that one person’s rot is another’s gourmet treasure. Just remember: when the cheese jumps, you should probably duck. After all, dining should be an adventure, not a contact sport.
