A Taste of Casu Marzu 1

David Rix – A Taste of Casu Marzu 1 A Taste of Casu Marzu By David Rix Free Sample This PDF contains the complete short story. A Taste of Casu Marzu was first published in the anthology Strange Tales III from Tartarus Press, 2009 Released by the author in this form, August 2012 David Rix – A Taste of Casu Marzu 2 Amid a proliferation of cheeses, Richard Jarvis raised his glass. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “Well – lady and gentleman. Both of you. One of each, to be precise . .” Feather and Calvin grinned. “. I hope you have had enough.” Cal gave a happy laugh. “It has been an education,” he said approvingly. Plates covered the small dining table. Plates with crumbs of Pecorino Sardo, Bocconcini, Podravec, Paški sir, Anthotyro xero, Metsovone and several other cheeses from Italy and the Adriatic – along with the remains of bread, Italian ham, Pršut, mayonnaise, Serbian ajver and other dips. There were also several bottles of Cannonau wine – also mostly empty. Red haired Richard Jarvis and the equally red haired Peacock regarded their guests happily. It was a relaxed and comfortable gathering in Richard’s eccentric living room – which meant being surrounded almost from floor to ceiling by collected oddments. Richard Jarvis was the Procurer – a man who could find almost anything, one way or another. He was notorious for it. And this room was stuffed with everything from rocks and thundereggs and preserved insects to certain sculptures and books. Lurking in one of the more shadowy corners, there was even a rather eerie Jenny Haniver in a case, staring down at the gathering with shrivelled eyes. This was a place where the collector’s instinct had run wild and where the room was filled with a sense of life and love because of it. And cheese. He and his partner peacock made a curious pair and both looked as eccentric as their room. She had the sharp eyes, prominent cheekbones and hard-edged accent that spoke of central or eastern Europe, while he looked like an English gentleman from a past age – though comically and slightly ironically so in a respectable faded suit and even a pocket watch for the occasion. He was like something from the grand old days of the Victorian eccentrics – tall and rather gaunt, but with a very eager and enthusiastic face, with a mischievous grin contrasting curiously with his very intense eyes. That energy made him look boyish, though that was belayed by the well-defined streaks of grey through his red hair. David Rix – A Taste of Casu Marzu 3 “I hope you have saved a little space for our special finale, however?” he said, gesturing at a small wooden crate still sealed in plastic. It looked just big enough to contain a human head. “I haven’t opened this yet,” he said. “So what follows is all part of the great unknown.” Cal and Feather stared suspiciously at the box as he tentatively picked it up and broke the seal. And what happened next was quite spectacular. It was invisible – silent – insubstantial. But it almost felt as though it shouldn’t have been. There should have been a noise to accompany that smell as it came radiating out. A crackling or fizzing sound perhaps. It made Feather, Cal and Peacock sniff suspiciously and flinch. Three pairs of eyebrows went up almost in unison. Ancient milk shot through with the acrid burn of ammonia. A shivering tang of odour like a knife in the air. A smell of the creatively dissoluted. “This took some finding, I can tell you,” Richard said, carefully lifting out a rather doubtful-looking pale brown, blotchy sphere . “What is it?” Cal asked. It didn’t look much – but the smell was making his hair prickle. Richard didn’t answer. He placed the cheese carefully on a plate, as though nervous that it would explode, and for a few moments everyone just sat and stared at it. Then Richard picked up a knife with a flourish and carefully cut the top off – scalping it neatly. A few small worms scattered on the table and Calvin winced. They were white and tiny and almost glassy . “Oh dear,” he said with a laugh. “Woops. I hope that wasn’t valuable.” He leaned forward to sniff, then backed away again sharply. The soft, almost liquid interior of the cheese was a squirming mass of maggots. “Oh dear,” he repeated with rather more feeling. Richard nodded in satisfaction. “Perfectly ripe,” he said. Cal blinked at him. “This is Casu Marzu from Sardinia,” Richard explained. “The famous maggot cheese.” Cal stared at the squirming mass. “Is it?” he murmured faintly. “Yes – it’s not exactly legal – but I had to try it. Not exactly easy to get into the country either . .” David Rix – A Taste of Casu Marzu 4 Feather shifted. “How did you . .” Richard tapped his nose and nodded. “My methods are intellectual property of the highest order. The closest of close business secrets.” He took a hunk of bread and cautiously examined the cheese. “Now,” he said. “According to what I’ve read, you just . .” He dug out a wriggling forkful and anointed the bread with it. A few of the worms actually jumped off, scattering on the table, and he rolled it up quickly. Then, shielding it with his hand he raised it to his lips . and paused. “Well?” he demanded. “After all the work I have gone through – are you going to just sit there and stare at it?” After a moment Peacock also took a forkful and rolled herself a sandwich. Feather shrugged and followed. “I’ve eaten stranger things,” she said. There was a silence while people considered that one, then Cal cautiously dipped a fork in the squirming centre, regarded the resulting dab carefully to make sure nothing moved, then licked it off. He made a curious noise, ending in a choking cough. “Oh bloody hell,” he coughed. “It burns my nose.” He drew a deep breath and puffed urgently for a moment. Then quickly took a drink of wine. There was silence. “Want some bread?” Richard asked, without much hope. More silence. Richard nodded. “Ok – you won’t join us then? Feather? Chew it well. Don’t swallow anything alive. That can lead to . complications.” “Now he tells me,” Cal grunted. “And shield your eyes,” he continued. “These things can jump.” In perfect unison, Richard, Feather and Peacock chomped their bread. In perfect unison there were three explosions of breath, coughing and dabbing of eyes. Cal watched in sympathy. “My skin is crawling,” he complained. “I am tingling all over. What the hell is that stuff?” Richard sat back. He seemed to be perspiring slightly. David Rix – A Taste of Casu Marzu 5 “Kind of smarts, doesn’t it,” Cal said dryly. “There are no words . .” Feather gave a high-pitched giggle and consumed the rest of her sandwich. “I like it,” she said. “It reminds you you are alive.” “I dare say,” Cal growled. “I have never seen a cheese so brimming with life and vitality.” Richard dabbed his eyes again and laughed. “Oh Feather, I wish I could sell you in 200ml bottles. We would all be rich.” Cal shivered and rubbed at his arms. “My nose is still tingling,” he stated. “What have you done to us?” “I am tingling as well,” Feather said, squirming in her chair with a short shrill giggle. Peacock drew a deep breath and also drained her glass of Cannonau. She also seemed to be struggling to maintain her composure. “I think another round of wine perhaps,” Richard offered. Another bottle was opened and more Cannonau flowed and was drunk. “There’s a lot of world out there,” Feather said wistfully, staring at the remains of the feast. “All these cheeses – and all from different places I have never seen.” “Oh yes,” Richard said. “These cheeses come from places where the wine and – and the olives and figs grow. Where the blue sea basks under a far too painful Mediterranean sun. And you can taste it.” “Hmmm?” “I love the south – central Europe,” he said. “The land – the people – the pretty girls . In Zagreb. Dear sweet Ljubljana. Sardinia. Down in Dalmatia. The endless Croatian islands . riding the railway down towards Split . .” Peacock gave a small smile. “Mr Jarvis would collect them if he could,” she said. “Who?” Cal asked. “The islands, the railway or the girls?” “All of them,” Richard cried. “I want them all in my museum . .” “Sounds rather dull to be stuck in a museum,” Feather said. “Well –“ Richard gave a mischievous grin. “Define museum. You have been in my museum for years.” “Does this cheese count as a museum then?” David Rix – A Taste of Casu Marzu 6 “Well – why not. A brief and fleeting one true – but why not?” Peacock grinned and spat on the floor. “Perhaps mercifully, I think. More wine yes?” Richard distributed Cannonau, then raised his glass high. “I think we shall have fine dreams tonight,” he said. “And I hope I am in all of them.” Laughter. “Have some more cheese,” he cried. There was a faint whistle of a train in the distance, making him hesitate and listen. The local railway line? It was a breathy steam whistle, not a horn. “I love trains,” he said. “Remember Tolkine? ‘The road goes ever on and on – down from the door where it began. Now far ahead that road has gone, and I must follow if I can . .’ Somehow that seems trebly true of the railways. That same railway line rides down to Split.

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