‘I tried the banned maggot-ridden cheese you can only get on the black market’

Jumping maggots aside, this illegal Sardinian delicacy may become an emblem of an old way of life

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Costanzo Carta takes a big knife, cuts into a chunky wheel of tawny cheese and there they are, white and wriggling in a lively fashion: maggots.
“Try it, it won’t do you any harm,” he says, proffering a dollop of the stuff on the end of the blade.
This is casu marzu, a highly unusual delicacy from Sardinia that has earned a listing by Guinness World Records as “the world’s most dangerous cheese”.
To some, it is a proud symbol of Italy’s gastronomic heritage; to others, a stomach-churning abomination.
Either way, it is a tradition that is now in decline, to the regret of many Sardinians.
Shepherds deliberately allow a specific type of fly called piophila casei to enter the cracked rinds of the cheese wheels and lay their eggs.
The eggs hatch into maggots which slowly but avidly squirm and munch their way through the cheese.
Their secretions turn it into a creamy, pungent goo that is highly prized by aficionados. In the Sardinian language, casu marzu means “rotten” or “putrid” cheese.
There’s just one problem – it is illegal.
Casu marzu has been banned not only by Italian authorities but the European Union.
That has not stopped a thriving black market from developing. If you know where to go and who to ask in the mountain villages of Sardinia, you can get your hands on it.
Eating a glistening gobbet of casu marzu as the maggots within it writhe is not for the faint-hearted.
It has a spicy, peppery tang and a creamy texture verging on greasy. It makes your eyes squint as the sharp taste rolls around your mouth. The aftertaste lingers all afternoon.
This is stuff that makes the ripest gorgonzola seem like supermarket edam.
That’s not the only thing that gives it a distinctive edge over all other cheeses. The slender, translucent maggots are surprisingly lively and can jump up to five centimetres into the air, potentially zinging into a nose or eye as the unwary consumer lifts a piece of cheese to their mouth.
Sardinian gourmands like to smear it on pane carasau, the island’s thin, crispy bread, and wash it down with a glass of Cannonau, Sardinia’s full-bodied red wine.
Mr Carta, 75, is part of the clandestine world of casu marzu.
On his farm outside the village of Perdasdefogu, in the mountainous hinterland of Sardinia, he makes around 200 wheels of the cheese each year from milk produced by his goats and sheep.
Although production of casu marzu on a commercial scale is banned, shepherds argue that they are allowed to make and sell small quantities of the cheese to friends, neighbours and the odd passing tourist from “the continent” – by which they mean mainland Italy.
It is a grey area – and one to which Sardinian authorities seem happy to turn a blind eye.
“I eat it almost every day: lunch, supper, anytime really,” he said.
The money is not bad – he sells casu marzu for around €30 euros a kilo compared to the €18 a kilo that is charged for standard pecorino sardo, another cheese that the island is famous for.
But making casu marzu is a dwindling tradition.
Many young Sardinians turn their noses up at eating maggot-infested cheese. And young people don’t want to become shepherds anymore – herders have to be brought in from Morocco, Tunisia, Albania and elsewhere to fill the gaps.
Sardinia has a big problem with depopulation. Emigration has been going on for decades and it is forecast that in the next 30 years the island will lose another 400,000 inhabitants out of a current population of 1.5 million.
“I’m the only one still producing it in the village. Forty years ago, everybody made it,” said Mr Carta, sampling his latest batch in a shed full of tools, equipment and other agricultural clutter.
One of his keenest customers is Giacomo Mameli, an author, broadcaster and expert on Sardinian culture who was born in Perdasdefogu.
“I love it. I’ve eaten it my whole life,” he said. “My father loved it too. When the maggots jumped off his plate, he used to take a piece of bread, chase them around the table, squash them and eat them.
“American visitors say it is the number one most disgusting thing in the world. But they eat McDonald’s.
“This is entirely naturally made. The maggots eat the cheese, they digest it, they poo it out and it becomes creamy.”
He admits though that it is something of a “niche product”.
“It’s a tradition that is in decline. My two daughters won’t eat it. They think it’s primitive,” said Mr Mameli, 84. “Less and less is being produced. Cheeses these days are too perfect – the rinds don’t crack so you can’t insert the fly larvae.”
A few miles down the road, Giordano Lai, 59, is making “normal” cheese in a shed, stacking the wheels on wooden shelves where they are left to mature.
He may be a proud Sardinian who speaks Sardinian fluently – it is impenetrable to an Italian speaker – but he doesn’t care for casu marzu.
“I’m not keen on it and nor is my wife – she says the maggots jump around like grasshoppers. When you squish them, you hear a tiny ‘phut’ sound. It’s not for me. But the old people love it, much more than standard cheese.”
Mr Mameli, an authority on all things Sardinian, thinks that one way to keep the tradition going would be to pioneer a way of making cazu marzu in clean, sterile conditions.
“These days we are eating pasta made from flour that is produced from insects – so what’s the difference? We’d like to see a scientific group set up to study whether it can be produced in a safe, sterile and healthy way, something that you could sell in the supermarket,” said Mr Mameli.
But for now, casu marzu remains prohibited. It has been banned for sale in the EU since 2002.
Earlier this year the European Commission was presented with a petition by a group of Sardinians which requested that the ban on casu marzu be lifted if “specific and strict production, labelling and marketing rules (could) be established, thus safeguarding consumers’ health and safety”.
In response, the Commission noted that when the maggots inside casu marzu are eaten, they can “survive the stomach acidity and remain in the human intestinal tract, leading to a parasitic infestation called “pseudomyiasis”.
“Moreover, the larvae can carry pathogenic microorganisms that may lead to infections. Italian authorities prohibit the placing on the Italian market of this cheese in view of its dangerousness.”
The Commission said that in light of the Italian assessment that casu marzu is “a contaminated and decayed product”, it cannot be deemed safe.
Professor Andrea Lentini, an entomologist from the University of Sassari in northern Sardinia, thinks Brussels is being overly cautious.
“Casu mazu is not dangerous to human health as long as you don’t go overboard and eat too much. That’s why it is widely tolerated. You can come to Sardinia and buy some and you won’t be arrested.
“The problem would come if producers started selling it on a commercial scale. Then they could expect a visit from the Carabinieri (police).”
Giuseppe Locci, 32, is part of the new generation of Sardinian cheese makers.
He and his girlfriend have established a squeaky-clean operation in Perdasdefogu where he sells goat cheese that is made to exacting hygiene standards. He doesn’t make casu marzu. But he likes it and eats it.
He says that casu marzu’s strong, distinctive taste comes from the ammonia that the maggots leave as they burrow their way through the cheese and digest it.
“There’s only a small amount, it doesn’t harm you,” he said cheerily. “I’ve never heard of anyone dying from casu marzu. People say ‘uuurgh, there are worms!’ But there are Sardinians who have been eating this all their lives who are now over 100 years old.”
Perdasdefogu has indeed been acclaimed as a centre of longevity. In 2021, it was recognised by Guinness World Records as having the largest concentration of centenarians in the world.
The town’s main street is adorned with black and white photographs of local men and women who have lived beyond the age of 100. A large sign at the entrance to the town proclaims it as ‘Il Paese dei Centenari’– the Town of Centenarians.
It may be officially banned but Sardinians are determined to keep the proud tradition of their pungent maggot-infested cheese very much alive.
Anna Mameli, 74, a former teacher from Perdasdefogu, says that while her late husband hated casu marzu, she loves it.
She wants future generations to be able to enjoy it. “One of my former pupils chose to become a shepherd. There are a few young people going into farming. I hope casu marzu can survive.”
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