We arrived at the Malhadinha Nova estate before sunset, right when the last rays of sunlight was wrapping around Alentejo vales with golden light. We had plenty of time to get lost in the surrounding villages and it took us several attempts before finding our way back. We finally managed to do it thanks to the local farmers. I can’t thank them enough for their patience towards my accent, considering how precarious my portuguese is.
Upon our arrival we were warmly welcomed by João Soares. Him and his kids brought us to the famous black pigs’ pen in a pick-up truck. While the two oldest were taking care of the infants, Mateo was sitting straight in the hedge at the back of the truck, with his dad holding his calves. He talked about the pigs vigorously, and his dad translated for us: these pigs, piglets and adults, would be released the day after in the plains neighbouring the family’s vineyard.
These rare black pigs would be walking around freely in this dry setting for weeks, feeding only on acorns of oak that matured earlier in the fall and fell on the ground. It is thanks to this royal treatment and that unique diet that their meat is one of the most prized in the world: the pata negra. The legs are covered in salt to make them dry. The process lasts 18 months and provides the ham with just enough fat to give it a particular taste. The subtle aroma of hazelnut makes it both a unique ingredient and a versatile one, but my favourite way of eating it simply is on a slice of bread.
The following day, I was lucky enough to participate to the release of these endearing animals and to spend the day with them. A quick Rover ride led us to the same place as we were the night before, but this time we were surrounded by black pigs. The pen’s door finally opened and the pigs slowly got out. They all went in the same direction and we followed them calmly, leading the way for the smaller ones, and escorting the latecomer in our arms.
Only a few minutes went by before we reached the first pastures geared towards feeding the black pigs. No other animal is allowed before the pigs’ arrival, keeping the acorns of oak unspoiled. They all gathered under a tree, then under another one, and another one, and we observed their ballet in silence from under an oak where we found some shadow to protect us from the already sweltering heat.
While I was watching these pretty animals in this gorgeous setting, I realized that despite their destiny, they get to enjoy a good life in a tremendous landscape.