A microcosm made of trees, shrubs, and plant cords, which grants the eyes limited glimpses of the sky and which, for some years now, has returned to be (like the Montagnola around Siena) the “home” of the Senese cinta. A very appreciated native pig breed, considered almost extinct since 1950, living semi-wild feeding on acorns and underbrush fruits.
The belt (from which the name cinta) of light hair framing the chest and shoulders down to the front legs, and the ears pointed forward like shields give this charming piglet a very distinctive appearance. Watching it graze in small groups, rooting undisturbed among the roots and humus of the undergrowth brings to mind yellowed images, from when the cinta was the wealth of entire peasant families, who with little expense raised it in these woods, waiting for the day of the “solemn sacrifice”.
Although it is called “senese”, the cinta was also known by the ancient Romans, who did not fail to introduce it to the regions conquered by the empire. Later great admirers were the medieval people, 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 gone extinct, however, this is due (and in much more recent times) to Andrea Bezzini, a Senese farmer who, even in the Sixties and Seventies, continued to breed cintas in the Montagnola woods, in adherence to tradition and family memories.
Today the breeding of this breed represents a constantly expanding niche market (requests now come from all over the world and, if you want to buy a whole ham, you must book it even a year in advance), so much so that a Consortium for the protection of the Cinta Senese has been created, which brings together about fifty operators and which, in collaboration with the Agriculture Department of the Province of Siena, has requested the European Union to assign a PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) to the “Tuscan cinta senese meat”, ie only that bred in the area of origin (Montagnola, Senese-Florentine Chianti) and respecting strict rules regarding nutrition and processing.
Stories of the Cinta
There are many stories and anecdotes that have sprung up around the Cinta Senese. The old folks still tell that at the end of the nineteenth century there was a legendary boar owned by the baron Ricasoli di Brolio, with which all the farmers wanted to mate their sows. The reproductive power of the animal was such that many were even willing to pay a lot of money just to get him. Another story, around the time of the two World Wars, is that of the priest of Barbischio, a tiny hamlet in the municipality of Gaiole, who would not dare to go to mass in one of the many little chapels scattered in the countryside without first taking a sturdy stick with him: at that time the cintas in pasture were much more aggressive than today and that makeshift weapon was used 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 a number of piglets greater than the number of her teats, the farmer turned into a kind of nurse and organized suckling shifts at regular intervals. Not to mention the escapes (once much more frequent than today) and the mad chases to catch up with the pigs, some of which ended up stolen or in the sights of hunters. The pig farmer of Terranova in Valdarno knew something about this, who, despite having fenced his hill farm, often found his animals down in the valley.
Raising Cinta Senese
“Raising Cinta Senese – explains Lorenzo Chini, a young and well-known breeder from Gaiole in Chianti (his family has been breeding and slaughtering since the 1600s) – is much more costly compared to common pigs. The effort is both economic and logistical. These animals need large areas of woodland to move around, grow at a slower pace, are moderately prolific (6-8 piglets per sow), and still experience significant losses, both at slaughter (the meat is very fatty despite the animal being a grazer) and during the curing phase (more than 30 percent of the weight is lost, compared to 5 percent in industrial production). This also explains the retail prices, which are about double those of common pork.” But raising Cinta is not a leap into the unknown and there is broad agreement in seeing this niche as an excellent opportunity for small farms (often run by young people) and for the territory. The Cinta is a zealous “garbage collector” of the undergrowth, and intensifying its breeding could contribute to the recovery of woodland areas that have been abandoned for decades.
