Count Dracula, the haunted forest of Hoia Baciu and other vampiric legends... Transylvania is home to many fantastic myths that excite the curiosity of those who visit. In this vast region bordering the Ukraine, Hungary and Serbia, we crossed the plains of north-western Romania and were guided to the foot of the Carpathian Mountains. Our curiosity was focused on another inhabitant of the region: the Bazna pig. Its canines are less sharp and its skin less pale! The Bazna pig is a small black and white pig resistant to the harsh weather of the Romanian winter. Its robustness is probably due to the woolly pig Mangalitsa, which inhabits the Romanian territory and from which it is descended. But his black coat comes from his Saxon origins! Indeed, the Bazna is the result of a cross between the Mangalitsa and the Berkshire pig, brought by the Saxons who used to live in the region. The Berkshire brought the black colour, but the work was only half done: the Bazna has a large white belt around the shoulders. As you may have noticed, the Bazna is a cousin of the Cinta Senese, which we met in Italy.
Photo. Bazna pigs
"Transylvania" means "beyond the forests" and it is a good illustration of the part that forests play in the Romanian landscape. While the plains are mainly occupied by cereal, hop and tobacco crops, Romania's mountains and forests are the preferred areas for livestock. Sheep are mainly raised there, but it is also common for farmers to raise a few pigs as a secondary activity, in order to make the most of the existing resources, including the wooded areas. For some, pig rearing is very similar to sheep rearing: the pigs graze freely, without fences, under the eye of the farmer who supervises the pig herd. A practice that is tending to disappear due to the spread of African swine fever, which is ravaging small-scale extensive farms in Romania. No, here it is not the health regulations that are destroying these farms, but the disease itself. Lucian Scumpu is the mayor of the village of Bazna, the one that gave its name to the little black and white pig. We met him and Ben Mehedin. They both head the Slow Food Presidium of Bazna Pig. A presidium that came into being just before the African Swine Fever epidemic. With a smile, Ben and Lucian admit that the timing of the presidium's creation was bad: swine fever destroyed several Bazna pig herds in the region, so that of the presidium's 16 Bazna producers, only half still keep pigs today. Until recently, Lucian was still raising 45 Bazna pigs on his farm. Within 24 hours, he saw his herd disappear from the Swine fever. So when asked if buying fences to protect the farm is not too expensive, he smiles and says: "The price is not that important compared to what I normally get from my pigs." This does not prevent him from expressing some doubts about their effectiveness, since according to him, his pigs were infected despite the fences. He blames the birds that feed on the corpses of wild boars and for which there is no preventive solution.
However, Ben and Lucian were willing to take us to meet the Bazna pig, which is the pride of the village and the region where it is popular. Lucian's brother Adrian welcomed us to his sheepfold, on the heights of the village of Boian, a stone's throw from the village of Bazna. Adrian raises here some 200 ewes of the local Tsurcana breed for the production of the regional cheese, Brindza! Adrian also has a few dozen Bazna and Mangalitsa pigs, which roam around the sheepfold. There are no fences here, the pigs do as they please! But they never stray far from the sheepfold, where Adrian gives them corn and whey. A snack that keeps them close, even if it doesn't prevent them from spreading out a little too far for the liking of the neighbours: "sometimes the pigs go down to the cornfields, down in the valley!" laugh Adrian, Lucian and Ben. While we're chatting, one of the four shepherds who work with Lucian has gone down the hill where the sheepfold is located. He comes back up a few minutes later and in front of him, mother Bazna and her piglets appear. On average, Bazna sows give birth to 8 or 9 piglets per litter and produce just over two litters per year.
Photos from left to right. 1. Adrian's sheepfold. 2 and 3. Adrian's Bazna and Mangalitsa pigs. 4. One of the sheepdogs watches over the sheepfold
"Fifty years ago, the entire Transylvania region produced Bazna" explains Ben. The black and white pig is indeed very famous for its back fat, which is smoked in the attics of traditional houses. It is eaten singly or with other Romanian dishes: Brindza cheese, onions, cold cuts, fried bacon, and a glass of local spirit. At Adrian's, we tasted this seemingly unhealthy culinary combination, washed down with a few glasses of spirit. First, the men have fun showing off their taste for good food. Secondly, it is easy to understand that the richness of the meal provides the energy necessary for the work of the shepherd, who milks his 200 ewes by hand twice a day, leads the flock during the day and watches over it at night, on the lookout for any predator. The spirit warms and protects against disease. "In fact, it keeps the Coronavirus away" the three men joyfully exclaim.
Photo. Charcuterie, fried bacon and Brindza
Photo. Culinary discussion with Adrian (left) and Ben (right)
Today, the sedentary nature of the population, a less physical work environment and the search for a healthy diet have made the consumption of smoked pork fat less attractive. Bazna pig farms are gradually disappearing from the Romanian countryside, also pushed out by industrial pig farms in claustration, to which the Bazna cannot adapt. However, the Bazna has a good capacity to store fat, but its extensive management among the Romanian pastures and forests gives it a fat rich in polyunsaturated fatty acids: good fat, in short! The Slow Food presidium was created to maintain Bazna pig farming in Romania and to communicate the nutritional and taste value of the meat and lard. Despite the health hazards (African Swine Fever, Coronavirus) that disrupt projects for the protection of the Bazna pig, Ben Mehedin, Adrian and Lucian Scumpu offered us their optimism and good mood during this day to meet the black and white pig. We ate well, we drank well and we left enriched with a beautiful slice of history from the Carpathian foothills.
Photos. Adrian's flock of Tsurcana sheep (white head) and some crossbreds (black head)
Did you know?
- Who is hiding under the wool?
Adrian and his four shepherds raise Tsurcana sheep to make Brindza cheese. In the morning and evening, the sheep are milked under a small wooden structure. Next to the small "milking house" is the shepherd's "bedroom". It is a small, rudimentary hut with just one bed. It is here that the shepherd recovers his sleep at night, while watching over his flock. On the bed, there is what looks like a large thick woolen blanket. It is actually a coat, made from the woolly skin of Tsurcana sheep. This big coat weighs several kilos and protects from the cold, but not only! It is also a lure for the bear, the main predator in the region. Ben tells us: "When the bear attacks a flock of sheep in search of food, it looks for the biggest sheep in the group. When he sees the man under his wool coat, he mistakes him for a big sheep. He pounces on the man, but the man is protected by his heavy coat, which gives him a head start on the bear.
Photos from left to right. 1. Sheep pen and milking shed. 2. Shepherd's hut for the night. 3. Ben is wearing the traditional woollen coat that protects the shepherd from cold and bear attacks.