A visit to the breeder: How do Czech Fleckvieh cattle and Přeštice Black Pied pigs live?
Amaso: Guaranteed quality meat
A little after 8 a.m. we set off for our first stop: a farm in Mladotice, to see zootechnician Jaroslav Bejda. As a city girl, I imagined animal keepers as characters from the movie "My Little Village," who walk around in dirty overalls and dig in the manure from morning till night. It was all the more surprising when we were greeted by a likeable thirty-six year old who could easily be mistaken for a hipster barista from a Prague café.
Together with my fellow photographers, we sat down in the meeting room, and Mr. Bejda began to regale us with the intricate history of the Přeštice Black Pied pig. His speech is admirably erudite and poetic, and he spoke about the pigs with such love, as if he were taking them home for the weekend as pets. Yet it took very little to drive this beautiful Czech breed to extinction.
"Its breeding was banned in the 1940s and only white pigs were left. We owe the survival of the breed to the Czech peasants, who kept pigs of related breeds secretly in their pigsties. Once the ban was over, the surviving breeds began to crossbreed again. They succeeded in breeding the original Přeštice Black Pied pig with its typical features, ears forward, black and white colouring and greater fatness,' explains Jaroslav Bejda.
Lazy pigs and paper canaries
"Each piglet intended for breeding and maintaining the purity of the breed has papers, which hold details of the lineage the pig comes from. Today we have ten of them, and we have to look after them carefully and keep them from interbreeding with each other until the third generation. The lines are named after their founders, i.e. the breeders who kept them," says Mr Bejda.
Their names reflect the origin and perhaps even the temperament of the animals, and in Mladotice we met Pirates, Pirettes and Falcons. Doesn't it remind you more of action movie heroes?
Looking at the empty enclosure, I begin to understand the expression "lazy as a pig". Pigs really don't break stride, even when they have generous space in the sun. While the photographer is running around the pen, Jaroslav Bejda is trying to lure the pigs to a clump of grass to show us what they're like outside, at least for a while.
"Pigs are naturally lazy animals, so they spend most of their time lying around. We need to adapt the diet to this, so we add alfalfa, barley, malt or bran. The diet needs to be varied because we want our pigs to grow more slowly and store fat evenly in their muscles. If the diet was too calorific, they would get fat disproportionately fast. If you're lying on the couch at home, you're not getting fat like a top athlete," explains Mr Bejda as we try to get some nice shots.
The even deposition of fat in the muscles is typical for crossfitters and it makes the meat juicy and tender. A grilled pork chop shouldn't be tough as an old boot, but a steak that you cut like a cake.
A steady supply of milk and warmth
From the paddock we move to the maternity ward, where the sows, as Jaroslav Bejda affectionately calls them, spend their time before and after the birth of the piglets. I realise that wearing white sneakers to a piggery to make this report was not the best idea. Moreover, the typical smell hits our noses at the door, and I choose to leave my leather jacket outside on the railing.
At the sight of the cute piglets, however, we quickly forget about the unpleasant smell and listen to Mr. Bejda, who explains how the piglets come into the world. "In the maternity ward, it is necessary to maintain an optimal temperature for everyone. The sows need cold, but the piglets need warmth, so they have heated mats in the corner where they go to rest after feeding," he explains.
We can't resist asking the piglets for a photo. Mr. Bejda willingly poses with four in his arms in front of a pile of hay. The idyllic scene is spoiled by the piglets' clucking, but our eardrums hold out. After the last portrait, we say goodbye to Mr. Bejda and start our journey to Zbiroh, to visit the Czech Fleckvieh cattle.
Steers and heifers
Upon arrival at the farm Líšná, we are greeted by the head zootechnician Petr Pánek. He may not be as articulate as Mr. Bejda from Mladotice, but we enjoy the omnipresent calm all the more. When we arrive at the barn, the animals are calm, they don't flinch when we touch them and literally eat out of our hands. I immediately recall the words of Vlasta Lacina, the head of Amaso, which takes steers and heifers from Líšná: "Peace in the life of animals is the most important thing for us. The fact that they are not afraid of human contact is clear proof that the breeder takes good care of them." This is clearly true here.
You may be wondering why Amaso wants steers and heifers when the best steak is from a young bull. Vlasta and his colleagues have a different view. They say that the meat of the bull is lean, but it doesn't have such a strong taste. Steers (castrated males) and heifers store fat in a different way, and the result is even marbling.
However, this is not common in the Czech Republic; most farms are used to taking meat from bulls. But in Líšná, with the help of Radek Chaloupka, they decided to try it years ago, and today they are inseparable partners. Here they breed steers and heifers exclusively for Amaso, and slaughter them at 20 to 22 months of age.
From April to November, they graze
Our visit to Líšná is shorter than the one to Mladotice because the cattle are only bred here. But I remembered last year's spring excursion, when we came to see the first release of cattle after winter on the pastures, which, by the way, I attended in the same white sneakers.
At the time, the photographer and I thought we were going to take pictures of happy cows happily trotting off to pasture. This was true right up until the moment when the photographer just barely managed to dodge the stomping herd that was literally rushing into the outdoor enclosure. The cows and calves were jumping up and down as if they couldn't get enough of the fresh air. On this visit, they were already settled in the pasture, and so, like the pigs, they lay down and grazed lazily.
With the same peace in our hearts, we bid farewell to Mr. Panek and get into the car. My white sneakers survived the visit to the pig farm and the pigsty more or less unscathed. We drive home pleasantly tired and maybe even slightly dazed, not only because in the boot of the car, the photographer's assistant is transporting pig manure for his vineyard garden at home.
The article was published in the summer issue of A* magazine, which you can pick up freely in Ambiente restaurants. Enjoy!
