A Harvester's Life

A handfull of grapes from one stem on the vine.

Even after all of the physical conditioning from the previous week, groans could be heard as we arrived at the farm early Tuesday morning.  We were nearly as sore as we had been after our first two days of harvest the week before.

We remembered Lou's words as we quickly fell into a steady clipping rhythm, handling our secateurs with the skill of pros (well most of the time).  We snipped bunches of Grenache grapes from vines over 70 years old, which were often too large to fit into one hand.  An occasional taste revealed a rich, sweet flavor which would eventually make its way into Domaine Rouge-Bleu's Mistral wine.

Normally we lost track of time as we worked nonstop during the hours of 0800 and 1200, only pausing long enough for sips of water from bottles that were thrown to us across the rows of vines.

Parma ham and a baguette of crust French bread.....mmmmm.

After processing the morning's harvest in the cave, lunchtime was a welcome break of two hours which started off with a glass of beer on tap from the outdoor keg.  Everyday, Kristi provided a feast of fresh crusty baguettes, parma ham, turkey and salami, along with carrot salad, coucous salad, green salad, garden fresh tomatoes, trays of local cheeses and the list goes on and on.



Jean-Marc and Stephan enjoying a glass of wine "al fresco".

Jean-Marc was not to be outdone, as he raided his wine cave each day, providing two or three bottles of the excellent French wine that you will never find exported to America. We always drank from "proper" wine glasses, even while eating outside, with the dirt under our fingernails and the burrs covering our clothing at odds with the gentile display of fragile goblets.



Two kinds of beer on tap in the outdoor keg.

My collection of burrs for the day.

Amazingly, we never felt tipsy after our halfway liquid lunch.  Perhaps we were channeling the grape harvesters of generations past.  Whatever it was, we were enjoying the process and looking forward to the end of the day, when Jean-Marc always sent us home with a half dozen more bottles of that French "eau de vie"!