by Hansuan_Fabregas (Pixabay)

Carnevale is a time of indulgence, but its roots are far more practical than decadent. Long before Lent, our ancestors feasted not to revel but to survive—clearing out stores of meat, butter, and cheese before they spoiled in the final stretch of winter. Yet after the feasting came the true fast, a time of scarcity that shaped the rhythms of both nature and tradition.

Carnevale comes from the Latin carne levare, meaning “to remove meat.” Today, this is often understood in the context of Lent, a period of religious fasting and restraint. However, before it was a time of excess for indulgence’s sake, Carnevale was a deeply practical observance—one rooted in survival and the rhythms of the agricultural year.

Sardinian Carnevale Figure

I’ve spent the past few weeks on social media and in the Old Ways for Modern Days library, sharing my mission to bring the celebration of Carnevale, or Carnival, back to our seasonal ritual calendar.  It’s such a great example of weaving old-world rituals with modern-day sensibility. Carnevale isn’t just a party—it’s one of the last great public rituals, a space where we step beyond the everyday and into something ancient, wild, and transformative.

 Is Carnevale an ancient festival? That’s debated. What’s clear is that it carries ancient themes—renewal, chaos before order, releasing what was before stepping into what comes next. But it remains a deeply animistic time to become something else for a while, throw off old roles, and step into new ones.

If you celebrate other liminal holy tides, like Samhain, the Omen Days, or Beltane, but don’t celebrate Carnevale, you might want to:

👹Learn more about the roots of Carnevale here>>  

👹 Take my Reclaiming Carnevale: The Mystery of Masks Workshop, where we explore why we should reclaim it, the animistic roots of masks and how to celebrate Carnevale no matter where you live (even if your community doesn’t celebrate!). CLICK HERE>>

Our ancestors didn’t just mark the changing seasons—they participated in them by putting their energy—their dancing, play, and sacred rituals—into awakening the earth from winter’s slumber.

Traditional Sardinian Ravioli- made with lard & meat

For our ancestors, late winter was a time of dwindling supplies. The animals that had been slaughtered in late autumn around Samhain had provided food through the darkest months, but by now, whatever meat, dairy, and fats remained would be reaching the end of their shelf life. In a world without refrigeration, the solution was not restraint but feasting—clearing out what would soon spoil in order to prevent waste.

Thus, the period of late winter and after Christianity, leading up to Lent, was marked by rich, heavy meals—foods we now associate with Carnevale. Dishes made with butter, lard, eggs, and meat weren’t just indulgences; they were necessary. From the lasagnas of Italy to the fat-fried beignets of Mardi Gras, these foods carried the echoes of a time when eating well in February wasn’t about hedonism but about not wasting the hard work that went into the harvest.

But when the party and feasting were over, it was time to dig into the real meaning of the word.

The Natural Fast

What followed was something modern Carnevale celebrations rarely acknowledge—a period of genuine scarcity. Once the stores had been eaten, there was no more to be had. What remained were the truly lean weeks of late winter and early spring, when fields were still barren and fresh food was scarce. This was the true carne levare. Not just a symbolic abstention from meat but a real necessity born from the land’s natural cycle.

Only when the first wild greens emerged, when hens began laying again, and when the earth slowly awoke from its winter slumber did abundance return. Here, we see the deep mirroring between these natural rhythms and the structure of religious observances like Lent. The Christian tradition of fasting and restraint didn’t start out as spiritual discipline—it was a reflection of something much older: the simple reality that, for a time, there simply wasn’t enough to go around.

one of my favorite carne levare plates- whole roasted cauliflower.

Bringing the Past into the Present

Several years ago, when I worked with my ancestors over Parentalia, as I reflected on the season, I was called to experience this period in a way that honors both its feasting and fasting aspects.

So each year, after Martedi Grasso (Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday), the end of Carnevale, I begin emptying my stores. I clear out my freezer of the meats, cheeses, and butter I’ve stocked away—acknowledging the ancient wisdom behind this practice. Then, I step into a period of my own version of fasting, eating only what would have been available to my ancestors at this time of year, usually until the Spring Equinox.

Carnevale, then, is more than just an excuse for revelry. It is a remembrance of a time when survival depended on knowing when to feast and when to fast when to enjoy the bounty at hand, and when to trust that spring’s renewal was on its way.

Related Posts:

Is Carnival Pagan?



Carnevale Origins Podcast Episode

Lasagna Legacy: Italian Food History (+recipe)

Parentalia & the Weight of Inheritance: Reverence, Reckoning, & Repair (+Almond Honey Cakes)