Italy is known for its culinary elegance: truffles from Alba, saffron risotto from Milan, delicious seafood, even the simple – but famed – aura of pasta al pomodoro. But beyond polished menus and starred trattorias, Italian cuisine hides a wonderfully irreverent side, one we find in all its – allow me to say – cheekiness in the names of certain dishes. This playful and sometimes provocative side of Italian food was delightfully highlighted in an article from the English edition of La Cucina Italiana, written by Steve DiMaggio and published in 2023. The piece explored ten famously odd food names and inspired this deeper dive into Italy’s uniquely named culinary curiosities.Rooted in dialects, folklore, or plain old kitchen humor, these names are sometimes just as memorable as the recipes themselves: from body parts to holy metaphors, here’s a tour of Italy’s most bizarrely named food offerings.
Anatomy on a plate
Let’s begin with a category that Italy seems especially fond of: food named after body parts. The most common theme? Male reproductive organs, and women’s breasts. First, from the central regions of Umbria and Abruzzo, we find coglioni di mulo – literally, “mule’s testicles.” Thankfully, no mule is involved here: this is a pork salami with a distinctive oval shape, often enclosing a cube of lard at the centre. The meat is seasoned, cured, and, despite the crude name, treated with great respect by locals.Then there’s palle del nonno, or… ahem … “grandpa’s genitals.” Another salami, of course, but this one has a coarser grind and a more rustic appearance: the name might cause a smirk, but the taste is as traditional as they come.
The female anatomy, too, has its culinary tributes: in Sicily, minni di virgini (“virgin’s breasts”) are delicate pastries filled with ricotta and candied fruit, topped with a cherry. Their shape gives them away, but their origin is surprisingly chaste: created in the 18th century by Sister Virginia Casale, they were intended to honor Saint Agatha, a martyr whose breasts were mutilated during her torture. Variations of this pastry appear across the south, often called sise delle monache or zizze di monaca (“nuns’ breasts”) in local dialect.
Last but not certainly least, there’s the zizzona di Battipaglia, a massive buffalo mozzarella ball whose name translates, bluntly, to the “big breast of Battipaglia:”weighing up to two kilograms, it’s a favorite at summer feasts and Instagram-worthy cheeseboards.
Insults and slang in the kitchen
Not all odd names, however, are anatomical: some come from regional slang or old-fashioned insults, relics of Italy’s class tensions, religious criticisms, or cheeky humor.
Take strozzapreti, or “priest-chokers.” This thick, hand-rolled pasta hails from central Italy and, depending on whom you ask, the name either refers to the pasta’s difficult-to-swallow shape (especially if one were a gluttonous priest), or to the women who “strangled” the dough while rolling it, expressing local resentment toward the clergy.
In a similar vein, pane cafone, Neapolitan for “peasant’s bread” or “crude bread,” wears its name with pride: though “cafone” is a derogatory term, this loaf is beloved in Naples for its dense crumb, crisp crust, and humble origins. And if you’re dining in Rome and someone offers you cazzimperio, don’t panic: despite the suspicious prefix (the first half of the word means, well, exactly what you think it does), this is simply the local dialect for pinzimonio, a dish of raw vegetables served with oil, salt, and pepper for dipping. The name most likely comes from cazza, an old word for ladle, but the pun is, of course, unavoidable.
Death, danger, and drama
Italy doesn’t shy away from dramatic culinary titles either: in Bari, spaghetti all’assassina – “assassin’s spaghetti” – earns their name from the scorched, crispy method of cooking pasta directly in a spicy tomato sauce until it sticks to the pan. The dish is fiery, both in temperature and temperament. In the same melodramatic tone, we have penne all’arrabbiata, or “angry penne,” named for the kick of red chili peppers that make the diner’s cheeks flush and nose run.
Holy food, funny names
Perhaps the most Italian juxtaposition is that of sacred references with decidedly irreverent names. As seen with the “nuns’ tits” pastries, culinary naming often flirts with blasphemy or cheeky religiosity. Uova alla monachina (“little nun eggs”), for instance,are a Neapolitan Easter specialty: boiled eggs filled with béchamel and cheese, breaded, and fried. Despite the dainty name, they’re rich, hearty, and perhaps too decadent for the table of old-school nuns! Then there’s strangolapreti, the Trentinovariation of strozzapreti, which takes things one step further: here, it’s not just pasta, but bread-and-spinach gnocchi. The name still means “priest stranglers,” a persistent motif across regional Italian kitchens.
Just plain bizarre
Some dishes resist neat categorization but are worth mentioning for their sheer linguistic oddity. Brandacujun, a Ligurian dish made with salt cod and potatoes, sounds like nonsense…until you break it down: in local dialect, brandare means “to shake,” and cujun is slang for a fool or, more colorfully, male anatomy. The name may refer to the wobbling motion needed to emulsify the dish or the wobbling of the person making it.
Sanguinaccio dolce is another oddity: a dessert made with chocolate and pig’s blood, popular in some parts of southern Italy. Though less common today, the dish has a long tradition during Carnival season and, despite the alarming ingredient list, the taste is rich and surprisingly mellow. And let’s not forget cazzilli di patate, potato croquettes from Palermo shaped like stubby fingers, or, more accurately, “little you-know-what,” as the name not-so-subtly suggests.
As funny as they are, we shouldn’t forget that, behind each of these names lies a piece of Italian cultural history. Poking fun at religious authority, hinting at sexual innuendo, or simply naming a food after its shape: Italians have long used language to play with meaning at the table, showing creativity, humor, and a beautiful openness to imperfection. So next time you’re browsing a menu or shopping at a salumeria, keep an eye out: that oddly named pasta or salami might just be the most memorable bite of your trip!
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