A microcosm made of trees, shrubs, plant belts, which grants limited glimpses of sky to the eyes and which, for some years now, has returned to be (like the Montagnola around Siena) the “home” of the Senese Cinta. A highly appreciated native pig breed, considered almost extinct since 1950, that lives semi-wild feeding on acorns and undergrowth fruits.
The belt (from which it gets its name) of light hair framing the chest and shoulders down to the front legs, and the ears pointed forward like shields, give this charming pig a very particular appearance. Seeing it grazing in small groups, rooting undisturbed among the roots and humus of the undergrowth, brings to mind faded images from when the cinta was the wealth of entire peasant families, who raised it in these woods at low cost, waiting for the day of the “solemn sacrifice”.
Although it is called “Senese,” the cinta was also known to the ancient Romans, who did not fail to introduce it into the regions conquered by the empire. It was highly appreciated in medieval times as well, as evidenced by several period paintings, such as the well-known Good Government by Ambrogio Lorenzetti, which the city of the Palio proudly preserves in its Palazzo Pubblico. If the breed has not completely disappeared, it is (and in much more recent times) thanks to Andrea Bezzini, a Sienese farmer who, even in the Sixties and Seventies, continued to raise cintas in the Montagnola woods, honoring tradition and family memories.
Today, breeding this breed represents a niche market in constant expansion (requests now come from all over the world and, if you want to buy a whole ham, you have to book it even a year in advance), so much so that a Consortium for the protection of Senese Cinta has been created, bringing together about fifty operators and which, in collaboration with the Agriculture Department of the Province of Siena, has requested the European Union to grant a PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) to the “Tuscan meat of Senese cinta,” meaning only that raised in the original area (Montagnola, Chianti senese-fiorentino) and according to strict rules regarding nutrition and processing.
The Stories of the Cinta
There are many stories and anecdotes that have flourished around the Senese cinta. The elders still tell that in the late nineteenth century, there was a legendary boar owned by Baron Ricasoli di Brolio, with which all the farmers wanted to breed their sows. The reproductive power of the animal was such that many were willing to pay large sums just to have it. Another story, spanning the two World Wars, is that of the priest of Barbischio, a tiny fraction of the municipality of Gaiole, who wouldn’t risk going to say mass in one of the many little chapels scattered in the countryside without first arming himself with a strong stick: at the time, the cintas grazing were much more aggressive than today, and that improvised weapon served to defend against sudden attacks. It also happened that farmers spent sleepless nights because of the cintas. For example, when a sow gave birth to more piglets than she had teats, the farmer would turn into a sort of wet nurse and organize feeding shifts at regular intervals. Not to mention the escapes (once much more frequent than today) and the wild chases to catch the pigs again, some of which ended up stolen or targeted by hunters. The pig keeper of Terranova in Valdarno knew this well, who, despite having fenced his hilly estate, often found his animals down in the valley.
Raising Cintas
“Raising cintas – explains Lorenzo Chini, a young and well-known breeder from Gaiole in Chianti (his family has been breeding and butchering since the 1600s) – is much more costly than common pigs. The effort is both financial and logistical. These animals need large portions of forest to move, grow at a slower pace, are moderately prolific (6-8 piglets per sow) and still record significant losses, both when slaughtered (the meat is very fatty despite the animal being a grazer) and during curing (losing over 30 percent of the weight, compared to 5 percent in industrial production). This also explains the consumer prices, which are about twice those of common pork.” But raising cintas is not a leap into the dark, and many agree in seeing in this niche an excellent opportunity for small farms (often run by young people) and for the territory. The cinta is a diligent “garbage collector” of the undergrowth and the intensification of its breeding could contribute to the recovery of woodland areas abandoned for decades.
