Why December 20th is a Terrible Day to Be a Pig in Romania

Pig Slaughtering in Romania Blends Tradition with Hilarious Superstition

December 20th marks a day of grim destiny for Romanian pigs. Known as “Ignatul porcilor” or “Inătoarea,” this age-old event is deeply rooted in tradition and superstition. It’s not just about meat—it’s a day filled with peculiar beliefs and cultural snippets that make you wonder if your family holiday prep is bland in comparison.

The ceremony begins early, with a roaring fire. The first chore? Singe off the pig’s hair. Next, the beast is butchered into practical sections: ribs, legs, and various future delicacies. The real MVP? Pork sausages, spiced to perfection, a staple in Romania and beyond.

But wait—there’s more! How about “caltaboș,” “chisca,” or homemade cracklings? Every family has secret recipes for these staples, passed down like precious heirlooms.

“Every year, we gather the family for Ignat. The pig feeds us for months!” says Elena, a farmer in Bucovina.

Ștefan from Maramureș shares, “It’s not just about food. It’s about honouring our ancestors’ ways. And okay, maybe the țuică helps.”

Even the kids pitch in. Little Nicușor, proudly covered in soot from the fire, declares, “Burning hairs off the pig smells bad, but the sausages smell great!”

When Pigs Have Nightmares

It’s said that on the night between December 19th and 20th, pigs have an unsettling dream—they sense their end is near. Legend even claims they stop eating because why fatten up when the butcher is coming? Cue the eerie soundtrack.

Romania’s Quirky Traditions on Pig Slaughtering Day

If you’re rolling your eyes at these tales, here’s a quick taste of the “rules” for Ignat:

• Blood is a must-see. Don’t go squeamish. The belief says witnessing blood ensures good health. No pig? Grab a chicken.
• Pity leads to poor meat. If you’re a softie, stay back. Tender hearts mean tough bacon. Who needs guilt stew?
• Don’t skip slaughter. Fail to slaughter the pig on Ignat, and wolves might raid your pigpen. Good luck explaining that insurance claim.
• Children as blood mascots. Smearing pig blood on kids’ foreheads promises rosy cheeks all year. Sorry, modern medicine.
• No sewing—ever. Needlework attracts misfortune, making pigs root in your yard or ruining clothes.
• A greedy pig’s heart equals cash. If the pig’s heart is drenched in congealed blood, it signals wealth for the owner.
• The pig knows. If the pig wasn’t slaughtered today, it’ll stop gaining weight. Who knew dieting was spiritual?
• The pig’s liver tells fortunes. Because what’s more scientific than animal organs?
• Predicting weather with a pig’s spleen. Forget apps or meteorologists. Grab a pork spleen, and voilà, you’re in the business of winter forecasting. Here’s the deal: brace yourself if the spleen is thick at one end. That means heavy snow, bitter cold, and a winter that might make even the sturdiest boots weep. Thin Spleen? Well, get ready for a limp winter where the snow barely bothers to show up. In case you were planning festivities, slim spleens also signal a “meh” New Year in terms of wealth.
• Pork riders? After slaughtering the pig, a child might climb atop the carcass. Supposedly, this brings prosperity to their household.
• Slaughter the pig on an empty stomach. Full bellies ruin the cosmic vibe.
• Draw a cross on the pig before the butcher gets busy. Holy meat only, folks!
• Take a lucky sip of ţuică. Spirits for the spirit—cheers to Orthodox perseverance.
• Lard for sheep health problems. Black pig lard was an all-purpose ointment for sheep. Feel free to ask the sheep for reviews.
• Church-blessed lard for human aches. A chunk of lard from a black pig would be blessed on Epiphany Day, then rubbed on sore legs and joints to ease pain. I suppose that was their version of Icy Hot. So, next time you bite into some pork, remember—grandma’s lard might’ve cured someone’s gout.
• Dried pig blood for “scaredy kids“. Pig blood mixed with millet and left to dry was burned to “smoke out” childhood fears or colds. Imagine the smell—delightful.
• Pig hair vs. the Evil Eye. Did your kid catch the evil eye? No worries; singe some pig bristles over them. If nothing else, the ritual might at least distract you from the evil toddler tantrums.
• Predicting babies: A clump of meat nestled in the pig’s fat allegedly revealed if the farmer’s wife would have boys or girls. I guess ultrasound tech wasn’t available yet.

“Some of this might sound funny to you, but trust me, it’s serious,” says Ionel, a farmer from a small village in Teleorman. “No blood? Bad crops. Simple as that.”

And for sceptics like me? Sure, it sounds wild, but let’s face it: if you’re betting on spleens or snowstorms, Google’s probably just as wrong half the time.

Historical Beef (Or Pork, Actually)

The whole affair dates back to pre-Christian traditions honouring a solar deity. Etymologists even connect “Ignat” to the Latin word for fire, ignis. During these celebrations, pigs symbolized abundance and wealth, but don’t let that distract you from the fact that nobody told the pigs that part.

Ethnologist Doina Ișfanoni ties these rituals to fertility and food security rituals: “The sacrifice, the fire, the feast—they all come from ancient customs tied to survival during the harsh winter months.”

Ending on a Bizarre Note: What the Inătoarea Wants

Some folklore insists the Inătoarea, an old, greedy, hideous spirit, watches over Ignat. If you’re slacking on tradition, she punishes you. Think boiled hands for pregnant women caught working or pigs making household messes all year, and voila! You’re in a Romanian horror movie.

As Ionel’s neighbour Maria jokes, “Skip Ignat, and by February, you’ll be begging for that lazy pig to come back.”

It’s no exaggeration to call December 20th the pig’s unluckiest day in Romania. Still, it’s a celebration of cultural identity, survival, and, let’s face it, some really obscure beliefs. Call it what you will, but one thing’s certain—Romania’s traditions are never dull.