Carol Forster column

Formaggio Marcio
Formaggio Marcio

Eating in Italy is a dangerous experience for anyone protective of their waistline.

Enter ‘Mario’s Trattoria’ as a seven stone slimmie and you’re quite likely to emerge Bessie Bunter a few hours later.

I have seen all good intentions evaporate only to be replaced by some exuberant drooling when the naughty menu arrives and the delicacies start flirting with you.

There’s no excuse, even if Mario’s wandering moustache temporarily puts you into a brainwashed stupor.

How can anyone resist a ‘real’ pizza fresh from the Italian oven, gleaming with scarlet pomodori, fancy mushrooms and bubbling cheese.

Stay at home if you are really concerned about your love handles or perhaps give your cholesterol the holiday of a lifetime and just enjoy all the nosh on offer.

I used to have pizza ambivalence, but put the genuine article in front of me and all reason goes up the swanny.

As for locally made Tiramisu, which literally means ‘pick me up’ in Italian, I say, ‘Oh yes, I will indeed pick you up baby!’

What a wicked thing it can be, there placed after a calorific saucy pasta dish and a Bruschetta guzzle.

My personal addiction to ‘Penne all’Arrabbiata’, probably has me with a flaming stomach, but it seems a small price to pay, and ‘Farfalle al Salmone’, made with salmon and cream, transcends description. Sublime.

However, there is a food that I think I would be more than happy to resist - ’Formaggio Marcio’ is a Sardinian speciality cheese that is literally rotten and maggot infested.

These white worms can be several millimetres long and quite visible to the eye.

Advice on how to consume said delicacy recommends a spoon.

How lovely! A spoonful of wrigglers to accompany your lunch.

Apparently, some folk like to remove said squirmers prior to consumption, whilst others enjoy them in all their wriggly glory.

I think I’d opt for the Fontina instead.

I like my cheese contents to be invisible to the eye personally.

Spotted Dick and custard never looked so good!