Branded with a red hot iron

His smithy is reminiscent of the noise of the anvil and the rhythm of the hammer which betrays the type of metal being forged. Sébastien remembers the smell of molten metal, soaked in oil. Both of them retain their fascination for this work. How could it be otherwise, at Laguiole, where everyone keeps their little metal blade, trenchant and reassuring, in their pocket? A land where the knife is not simply a piece of cutlery but a symbol, marking the different stages and rituals of their lives. Sebastien received his first knife when he became an adolescent, another when he got married. Whenever he travels, he acquires more; his visits to Japan are as much an occasion to add to his collection of knives. But his most cherished knives are those which he uses in the kitchen and which fillet, cut, pare, trim, mince, dice or de-bone without fail. Every day, as if to pay homage to them, he likes to sharpen them, in a moment of pure concentration, before the off.