Viltre vindruer/Bastard grapes

It is not always obvious where to cut. 

Dag nummer to. Alle modne frugter, der ikke er mere end 50 procent raadne eller svampebefaengte, ryger i kurven. Der er druer nok at tage af, stokkene er saa fulde af frugter, at det synes at trodse alle naturlove. Fire kilo druer per plante, hvilket svarer til op imod en tredjedel mere end almindeligt, og hele 50 procent mere, end den kvote, vi maa aflevere til presning paa kooperativet. Men alt skal plukkes i aar. Det har den underafdeling af det franske landbrugsministerium, der beskaeftiger sig med vin, bestemt.

Jeg har allerede meget mere styr paa vindruerne. De mere erfarne plukkere ved praecis, hvordan de skal vride og vende klaserne for hurtigst muligt at faa dem gelejdet ned i kurven. Nybegyndere maa foerst laere trickene, og blandt andet derfor gaar det temmelig meget langsommere i begyndelsen at fylde sin kurv.

Man kunne tro, at vindruer haenger smukt ned fra grenene i deres karakteristiske omvendt pyramideformede klaser. Det goer de ogsaa nogen gange, maaske endda for det meste. Men saa er der ogsaa de udspekulerede smaa slubberter, der paa blomsterstadiet absolut skulle have naesen ind mellem to raekker traad, ind i mellem en gaffelgren eller lignende.

Naar de vokser sig store og staerke og bliver pumpede som balloner af saft, viser de en paafaldende tendens til at vokse rundt om denne jerntraad, disse grene, hvilket goer det ulige mere besvaerligt at befri dem for deres livline til moderplanten. Dertil kommer, at fire eller flere klaser ind i mellem har leget kluddermor. Filtret helt ind i hinanden maa plukkerne saa proeve at finde hoved og hale i baerklumpen, foer den kan dumpes ned i kurven. Saadanne tilfaelde tager tid og ender som oftest – i hvert fald for mig som nybegynder – med at klaserne maa klippes op stykke for stykke og de sidste stumper rives ud i gennem forhindringen med masser af druesaft ned ad armene, sorte druefingre og ind i mellem klip i fingrene som foelge.

Dagen slutter med en klar fornemmelse af muskler i ryg, laar, underben, bagdel, der tydeligvis ikke er vant til at arbejde. Det forlyder nu, at den tredje dag er den vaerste. Det siger baade formand Gerard og Muriel, der i 10 aar er taget fra Normandiet hertil for at plukke de smaa skiderikker. Dagens leverance: Knapt 7000 kilo som i gaar.

Second day. All mature fruits, that are not more than 50 per cent rotten or diseased with fungus, goes straight in the basket. There is more than plenty to pick. The plants carry so many grapes this year that it seems to go aginst all laws of nature. Four kilos on each plant, which is equivalent of one third more than normal and 50 percent more than the quota we are allowed to deliver at the cooperative. However everything must be taken. That has been decided this year by the department in the French Ministry of Agriculture that deals with wine.

I already am much more in control of the grapes. Even only the more experienced pickers know exactly how to turn the grapes up and down to be able to cut them as fast as possible. Beginners must learn the tricks while working, which slow you down in the first years.

You could think that grapes hang neatly from the branches in their characteristic shape of a pyramid upside down. They do, sometimes, maybe even usually. But you do experience clever little bastards that already while flowering choose to put their nose through to rows of iron thread, through branches shaped as forks and similar.

When these bastards mature, they show a strong tendency to grow around the thread or branch, which makes it a lot more difficult to cut off their connection with the motherplant. On top of this add those where four or more grapes have tried how much they could possibly be wringled into each other. Here the pickers must try to find head and tail of this bunch of berries which most often – anyway for a starter like myself – ends up with cutting the grapes apart piece by piece. It takes time and you normally also end up pulling the last pices through the obstacle anyway with a lot of grapejuice running down your arms, black grape fingers and now and then wounds from the cutter as the result.

As the day ends I have a strong feeling of my muscles in back, legs and bum, a clear sign that they are not really used to work. Now leader Gerard and Muriel, who has come here from Normandy to do the grapeharvest for ten years?, agree that the third day is the worst. Todays result: A bit less than 7000 kilos just like yesterday.