![]() |
My wife and I visited Austria to see how farmers raise the Mangalitsa, and how people use the meat. Our trip was arranged by Christoph Wiesner, the head of the Mangalitsa Pig Breeder's Association Of Austria.
In addition to seeing nine farms, we took a course from one of Austria's master butchers on Mangalitsa preparation and visited one of Austria's finest restaurants, where they serve Mangalitsa with great flair.
We learned a lot and got to eat incredible food. The neatest thing about the trip was that we met the farmers producing our meat and got to see their pigs, often relatives of the animals we were eating. That's a very special experience.
One day stood out more than others: in the morning we visited the Faul family's farm and saw their animals (Mangalitsas and rabbits), ate a breakfast of their home-cured pork and rabbit, and then took a class where a master butcher cut up one of Mrs. Faul's sows in front of us (which was like watching an artist), and then cooked us lunch, as we watched, from some of the meat.
We learned that farmers raise the pigs differently, depending on the final use of their meat. There are essentially two markets: pigs for roasting or cooking, versus pigs for curing.
When people raise pigs for restaurants or roasting, things are a lot easier, because they don't have to be so concerned about polyunsaturated fat in the meat. People just feed the pigs waste food like bread, potatoes, grain, hay and whatever else is available. Eventually the pigs get big enough to slaughter. Due to the Mangalitsa's marbling, the meat is of much higher quality than normal meat.
It is still possible to screw up, and there is variation from farmer to farmer, but in general, it isn't very complicated to produce good meat, and the stakes for the farmer are lower, because the animal is younger, so he represents a smaller investment of time, feed and facilities.
When people raise the pigs for cured meat, everything gets more serious. The farmer must carefully control the diet to maximize meat quality. People slaughter at home to avoid problems due to stress. Raising such pigs is a high-stakes game for the farmer - by the time he slaughters a hog, he's fed it for 18-24 months, and the animal represents a huge investment of time and money. If the farmer slaughters the animal badly, he can ruin the meat.
If the farmer has fed the pig badly, it will go rancid while curing many months, ruining everything. As the farmer is the guy doing the curing, he manages this carefully.
Christoph and his family run a farm in Göllersdorf, Lower Austria with rare breeds of goats, pigs and other farm animals. They also raise heritage crops like sunchokes. They often have paying guests to their farm, who get to eat farm-fresh food and learn about traditional farming.
Christoph slaughters and butchers at home. He also makes and sells Speck, a generic German term for cured-meat, which he produces on the farm with minimal equipment.
![]() |
His wife and mom served us a delicious meal made from the parts left from curing pigs: scraps and liver. The food was great, particularly the scraps, which were amazingly juicy and flavorful. Later on I got to sample his Speck (cured belly and ham), which was fantastic.
![]() |
One blonde Mangalitsa had just given birth, and was resting in a shed with her "girlfriend," who made sure to let us know that we should keep back.
The Mangalitsa pigs are extremely protective of their young piglets. They generally don't allow people, even the farmer, near them. A sow can attack at any moment; she errs on the side of protecting her piglets.
The most impressive feature on Christoph's farm were his straw-filled "caves" for the breeding stock and pet pigs, allowing them to stay warm in winter and cool in summer. It was clear the pigs were very cozy. He explained that only the dominant pigs get to use the caves.
![]() |
Some of Christoph's sows had recently given birth to piglets. It was exciting to see them.
In the wild, a pregnant sow will leave the herd before birth and give birth alone. Getting away from the other pigs means that a sow doesn't have to worry about other pigs eating her piglets, which is common behavior. Sows that can't get away from the herd get very stressed, and sometimes eat their own piglets.
Small farms often put sows in stalls for a few weeks, until the piglets are big enough to join the herd. That isn't cruel: the sow relaxes because she doesn't have to fear for her babies, and any sows inclined to eat the piglets of other sows don't get a chance to do it. That allows a farmer to keep sows that he'd otherwise have to cull.
Stalls are quite roomy. A sow and her piglets can all turn around, play, etc. A stall is not the same thing as a "gestation crate" that confinement farms use.
![]() |
One thing we learned is that young piglets are instinctively afraid of humans. That makes it very tough to get photographs of them. Sows also don't want you near their piglets. Piglets constantly move to put a sow between you and them, and the sows grunt and make noises to tell you to keep back.
Mangalitsa sows are very protective of their babies. They rarely savage their own piglets.
When a sow is afraid for her babies, she can attack at any time, without warning, from any direction. They are big, fast and powerful animals. There's a saying that the difference between an inexperienced and experienced pig farmer is a few scars.
More: