You might translate “pastured” as free-range. In the old days, pigs were released into meadows of forests to fend for themselves. Since pigs will eat everything (making them omnivores like us), that meant things like mushrooms, roots, worms, bugs, nuts and even meat like birds and mice.
This worked out well for colonial farmers. Their pigs roamed free, squeezing through crude post-and-rail fences and wandering through neighboring farms and forests. They became such a nuisance that laws were passed to identify which pig belonged to which farmer. The cliché image of the ring in the pig’s nose dates from these early days; rings prevented the pigs from rooting up farmers’ crops. See how much you can learn from a butcher?
The term for pasturing in a forest—practiced for centuries in Europe—is pannage. In the Middle Ages, the owners of forests made more money selling mast rights than wood. Mast refers to the nuts or fruit of forest trees like beech, oak, and so on, which are eaten by wild animals—and pigs—as they forage.
The second method of swine raising involves bringing the food to the pigs. One of the earliest—and still going—uses of the pig was as a garbage eater. Our garbage. The garbage pig has been kept by many civilizations. Its role was to eat a family’s leftover scraps, as well as waste from mills and garbage from hospitals and large institutions. Pretty much anything we didn’t want. In the days before municipal sewage systems, it was the pig that took care of things. In early China and Korea there was a “privy pig” that ate—oh, yuck—human excrement. And then was eaten by the humans. I’ll let you ponder that a little.
I wonder… was it this association with garbage that led to the avoidance of pork by certain cultures? No other animal is saddled with so many “no-nos”. About a fifth of the world’s population won’t eat pork. That includes Muslims, Jews, Ethiopian Orthodox Christians, and many Buddhists and Hindus.