Yes, indeed, it can be different! You thought you knew farming, right? Cows mooing lazily in fields, chickens pecking suspiciously at the ground, and pigs… well, doing pig stuff. But my friend, you haven’t experienced anything until you’ve stumbled upon Farmer Peter’s magical little porky paradise on the Venusberg.
Now, first off, finding Venusberg is like trying to locate Narnia, except with fewer wardrobes and more twists and turns. Tucked away between Paal and Meldert, it’s so well hidden, even your GPS will start sighing. But trust me, it’s worth the adventure. Bring a sandwich, because it’s a journey. But hold off on the bacon – you might want to rethink that after meeting Peter’s hogs.
Farmer Peter isn’t your run-of-the-mill, pitchfork-wielding farmer. Nope. He’s a pig-whisperer with a mission: to raise the happiest, healthiest, and most mischievous pigs this side of the universe. And he does it outside. That’s right, no piggy condos here—just the great outdoors and lots of fresh air. (I imagine these pigs scoff at the idea of mud baths being a spa treatment. “Amateurs,” they grunt) On the Venusberg, time doesn’t just stand still—it relaxes in a hammock under a linden tree and watches the pigs frolic. Yes, I said frolic. Just like they did centuries ago, Flemish pasture pigs roam freely, digging their snouts into the earth and indulging in what I can only describe as piggy mischief. We’re talking full-on, no-holds-barred, mud-slinging, root-sniffing, tree-climbing (okay, maybe not tree-climbing, but a pig can dream), and general hog heaven antics.
These pigs aren’t just any pigs, mind you. These are highbrow pigs, practically porcine aristocracy. They’re not slumming it in some dingy pen, getting fat and lazy. Nope, they’re living the good life—rolling in fresh grass, breathing in that sweet, sweet open air, and gleefully ignoring all the drama of modern pig life (such as the great debate on whether slop should be served cold or lukewarm). And you know what happens when pigs live their best lives? They get healthy. So healthy, in fact, they don’t need medicine. No sniffles, no sneezes, just happy snouts and contented oinks. With all that fresh air and linden tree shade, these pigs are basically the wellness influencers of the animal kingdom. They’re out here living their “root, wallow, repeat” life while the rest of us are still trying to figure out if broccoli really tastes good or if we’re just fooling ourselves.
But here’s where things get real. Every month, Peter personally accompanies his pigs to the end of their lives. Now, that may sound like the saddest road trip ever, but Peter sees it as his responsibility. The result? The pork from Venusberg tastes like nothing you’ve ever had from a supermarket, because these pigs weren’t just raised—they lived. Like, really lived. They were free-range philosophers in pig form.
The magic of Venusberg doesn’t stop at the pigs. Oh no. When you eat meat from one of Peter’s pigs, you’re not just eating pork. You’re consuming a slice of history, a throwback to the days when our ancestors ate food that tasted, well, like food. This meat has character. It’s the kind of flavor that makes you stop mid-bite, look at your plate, and think, “This is what my grandmother was talking about when she said, ‘Back in my day…’
Now, let’s talk about the alternative: supermarket pork. Picture a factory farm where pigs are fed from a giant Pez dispenser, consuming their entire meal in 15 minutes on concrete slats that could double as medieval torture devices. Their pregnant mothers are squished into cages so small, they can’t even turn around. Once they’ve given birth, it only gets worse. They’re moved into farrowing crates—basically a pig prison where they can see their piglets but can’t reach them, like some kind of tragic soap opera subplot. It’s no wonder these pigs are stressed out. If I had to live like that, I’d probably lose my bacon too.
But back to Venusberg, where the grass is greener, the pigs are happier, and the bacon is tastier than ever. Once you’ve tasted pork that lived its best life, running around the fields, getting belly rubs (probably), and living like a piggy celebrity, how could you ever go back to factory-farmed pork? I mean, those pigs never even got a chance to dig a good hole or roll in some quality mud.
So, if you care about the quality of your food—and the moral compass of your bacon—then Venusberg is the place to be. Just remember, the pigs had a great time while it lasted… and now it’s your turn to enjoy the results.
Pork with a conscience. Because even pigs deserve a life worth living.
www.venusberg.be
