I love the little treasures we find on this old Gascon farm. One minute it’s an old wagon circa WWII a fellow far-neighbor carts away without consent. Another time it’s a siphon of some Armagnac- 1975 – the neighbors or friends know habits here ( again without consent )… the Armagnac is gone now so go away. We are through that “without consent” phase and now when we find things, we can enjoy what it was. We can enjoy what it is. If you are an old Gascon farmer, you speak French with percussive Spanish sounds. This French is fading fast. You will never hear old Gascon French ever again. If only I could get out there with my recorder and capture this lovely language.
You Gascon Farmers carry a knife much like the one above. You cut your bread or Brie with the blade and you open your wine with the screw. Though, much of the wine in these parts come directly from the barrel, no cork and therefore no tire-bouchon required. But you must always be prepared. Especially if you’re a French soldier. I can’t imagine the Gondrin army being very huge.
This beauty is a bit rusty and in need of a clean. I thought I’d signal with my birthday truffle to seal the deal. The knife seems to work well, we’ll ask the locals to see what this Gondrin knife stuff was all about.