The Sardinian connection.

jackknife said:
I would like to meet Senior Usai some day.
Click to expand...

Carl,
I met him last week on my "resolza-picking tour" and had an interesting conversation with him about knives, traditions, modern takes on traditional designs, Hemingway, knowledge of our homeland, and other topics. Rest assured that he'll be glad to meet you as well, when you decide to visit this land :)

Fausto
:cool:
 
Great thread! Beautiful knives and great storytelling!

I seem unable to see some of the pics. At least, there are a few very large white spaces between sentences, refering to images but I don't see them. Is it because I don't have enough posts or a subscription to the forum?...

:confused:
 
No, your post count or Subscription do not matter.
Pictures are not hosted on BF but linked from other image storing websites, so maybe you can't see some because they expired, the account was closed and so on.
Meanwhile...

Dinner had been nice, and now the man with the beard and his Brother in law were alone in the room. The women had gone to sleep early.
On the table between them, two small glasses and a bottle half filled with a dark, sticky liqueur that the foreigner had discovered when he had first visited the island. It was distilled from the berries of a plant that the foreigner had never seen until his first trip. Apparently, the Mediterranean was its homeplace, and the locals called it mirto. It had a distinctive and persistent smell that he liked alot. And the liqueur carried the same perfume, along with a generous dose of alcohol. He had learned the hard way that drinking alcoholic beverages on this Island without eating anything first would bend his knees quicker than he would expect. But now he knew better.
The bearded man poured cold mirto and handed one glass to his guest. Then he took the blue messenger bag from a chair, and opened it slowly. It seemed that all about him, from his moves to his voice, were slow and silent. He took the cloth bag and opened it up, and put the two knives on the table. Now, the foreigner was able to take a closer look to them. They were almost identical in shape and size, following the old tradition of local folding knives. Yet, they looked very different from each other. One was dark, the handle made of a textured wood with warm reddish tones; it reminded him of old pipes and antique desks. The other knife was made of horn, an intriguing tone between blond and grey. His host owned a very similar one (just bigger).
He knew one of those knives was meant for him. He hadn't predicted that he would be allowed to choose though. The bearded man leaned back on his chair, and with almost a smile pointed his hand towards the two knives, inviting his Brother in law to pick his favourite.
The foreigner hesitated for a minute. The wooden one was incredibly beautiful to his eyes...yet somehow he felt that his host would prefer him to pick the horn handled knife. Maybe because they would own two very similar ones...he could not tell why (and his host had not spoken a word since the knives came out), but the feeling was clear, so he pulled the second knife towards himself and left it on the table.
The bearded man stood up, immediately followed by his guest, and asked him if he had a coin. The foreigner pulled out a bunch of local coins from his pocket, and picked the one with two metals and colors, silver in the center, gold in the border. He handed it to his host, wondering why he would need a coin. Maybe a head or tail flip? Instead, as he handed him the coin, the bearded man handed him the horn handled knife, and grabbed the coin from his hand.
"It's yours now" said the bearded man. "good night". He took the other knife from the table, turned away from the foreigner, and walked towards the bedroom, leaving his guest under the light, half puzzled, and half amazed as he was holding his first resolza in his hands.

lCGUcKK.jpg


Fausto
:cool:
 
Splendid, Fausto! And...you turned the knife over so we can't see the makers stamp...more mystery indeed:D
 
Well done Fausto!!!:cool: The trademarks of the maker remain hidden, yet clues remain...not all trademarks are stamped into steel, some are subtle, like the ways of the Sardinian connection :thumbup: :)
 
Grazie, Fausto!
:thumbup:

I have seen one Portuguese made model just like this last one you showed. It has a small defect in one of the handles. If not for that, I was very very very tempted in buying it.

The fact that it's made in Portugal (though we have fine knife makers) helps the hesitation. It has "Patada Made in Portugal" stamped in the blade. Anyone know anything about these knives?...
:confused:


Reading the last few lines of this text, we have the very same costume in Portugal. Maybe it's a latin thing. Good to see people are not so different from one country to another.
:)
 
Folks, as a retired grand high muckba of the peanut cult, and a lover of all very nice knife forms, I have this to say;

Do yourself a favor and get a resolza. You all need a resolza. All knife knuts everywhere need to have a resolza. Before you buy anymore barlows, stockmen, jacks, anymore GEC's or Northwoods, you need a resolza. To own a resolza is to own one of the most beautiful and refined pocket knives in the world. I love my peanuts, and I love the old stockman pattern that I have maybe a third of my life tied up in carrying in every part of the world. But I keep coming back to the resolza. It has a feel and a draw like few other knives. At least to me.

The true beauty of the design becomes very apparent when you use it to slice some nice BBQ beef, or a cheese out in the woods, or cutting some twine out in the garden. The genius of simplicity of function becomes very apparent. And it's nice to have a pocket knife that is more beautiful the more you look at it.

This pattern is very under represented in America.
 
I got the bug, it bit pretty bad when I saw your Resolza at that seafood place. Good thing the Sardinian found one a little bigger for me. I have to set up a courier to deliver the goods to him.

I'm going to be the homeless guy with the best knife collection!
 
Yeah, guess what... I went back to the store. The knife they had was not the one with the defect, it was a new one.

I was stupid enough to hold it.

Now I own it...

:hopelessness:


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The afternoon heat was too much for the light summer breeze to cool down.
Outside the airport, two police agents were evidently torn between staying inside their air conditioned vehicle or doing their job checking the crowd that went outside the airport building as flights landed.
June had turned a small airport into a crowded place filled with foreigners in sunglasses and flip flops and locals coming back home for the summer season. The police officers had a picture of the man they were after, and they hoped to find him. The younger officer, sunglasses and blond hair, was anxious to find their man; the older agent seemed more relaxed, and looked casually among the crowd.
"Even if our info is accurate and we find our man, so far we have nothing on him" - he had told his young colleague as they were reaching the airport - "so no need to get anxious about it. We just want to let him know that we're after him, and that's it."
"Then why are we going after him in the first place? I will question him and we'll take him to the station"
"Calm down buddy...you're still new here, and evidently you don't know much of this sort of man. You and I stand no chance of framing him by questioning him outside the airport. It's a chess game, not a rooster fight".

The bearded man stood in the departures hall, black velvet trousers and a short sleeved white cotton shirt, his eyes on the screen announcing when flights would take off. He had noticed the police car outside the airport, and the two officers standing close to it. A suffocated smile ran through his face as he thought of a cloth bag inside a suitcase, in the cargo compartment of the plane that had just taken off. He waited until the following flight landed, went down the stairway to the arrivals hall, and walked outside the airport within a crowd of Spanish tourists who turned right just outside the building. His eyes caught a glimpse of the younger agent, but soon enough he had turned his back to him as the crowd moved forward towards the rental car parking lot. He put his berritta back on, and slowly walked to his old Fiat.
You don't need to run to be one step ahead....

Fausto
:cool:
 
quattromori said:
The afternoon heat was too much for the light summer breeze to cool down.
Outside the airport, two police agents were evidently torn between staying inside their air conditioned vehicle or doing their job checking the crowd that went outside the airport building as flights landed.
June had turned a small airport into a crowded place filled with foreigners in sunglasses and flip flops and locals coming back home for the summer season. The police officers had a picture of the man they were after, and they hoped to find him. The younger officer, sunglasses and blond hair, was anxious to find their man; the older agent seemed more relaxed, and looked casually among the crowd.
"Even if our info is accurate and we find our man, so far we have nothing on him" - he had told his young colleague as they were reaching the airport - "so no need to get anxious about it. We just want to let him know that we're after him, and that's it."
"Then why are we going after him in the first place? I will question him and we'll take him to the station"
"Calm down buddy...you're still new here, and evidently you don't know much of this sort of man. You and I stand no chance of framing him by questioning him outside the airport. It's a chess game, not a rooster fight".

The bearded man stood in the departures hall, black velvet trousers and a short sleeved white cotton shirt, his eyes on the screen announcing when flights would take off. He had noticed the police car outside the airport, and the two officers standing close to it. A suffocated smile ran through his face as he thought of a cloth bag inside a suitcase, in the cargo compartment of the plane that had just taken off. He waited until the following flight landed, went down the stairway to the arrivals hall, and walked outside the airport within a crowd of Spanish tourists who turned right just outside the building. His eyes caught a glimpse of the younger agent, but soon enough he had turned his back to him as the crowd moved forward towards the rental car parking lot. He put his berritta back on, and slowly walked to his old Fiat.
You don't need to run to be one step ahead....

Fausto
:cool:
Click to expand...

:):):)

Thank you.

Cate
 
Hello,

Are these famous and beautiful knives, the Resolza, the most popular knife in Italy?

Do most of them come in one specific blade length and if they come in other lengths, what is the most popular one?

I can't remember the posts where I was looking at three that I absolutely loved. They were so BEAUTIFUL!

Are they hard to open with arthritic hands?

I did not look up the knife laws but does Italy have a specific blade length law? What is the longest LEGAL carry 'concealed blade length' there in inches or metric measure?

Do most Italian women and men carry a knife on them on a daily basis concealed instead of open carry?

Don't most people in Europe carry knives on a daily basis? I know that you have knife and gun laws but I thought that your KNIFE laws were NOT so strict in most countries.

Thank you for your kindness in sharing your posts, knife pictures, scenic pictures and wonderful stories again.

I love this thread!

I have not seen one of these knives in PERSON here in Montana.

Cate
 
Let me see if I can answer your questions...
Hard to say if Sardinian knives are the most famous traditional knives in Italy, since there are many regional patterns all over the country. Sure they are the most popular knives here in Sardinia :rolleyes:
Since all knives made in Sardinia are hand produced, size is quite variable. The "standard" size is around 9-10 cm of blade length, but you can find bigger ones and smaller ones as well.
Being friction folders, and having enough blade exposed for pinching, they are mot hard to open at all (and they don't snap on your fingers). Take the average Opinel as reference on the matter.
Italian laws are blurry and say nothing about blade length (old laws - when Italy was a kingdom -were instead specific about size). The Italian Constitution says that (aside for switchblades and daggers) knives are "improper weapons", which means you can carry them as long as you have a justified reason to carry it (not a smart lwa in my opinion). There is no concept of open vs concealed carry here, but people tend to carry knives inside their pockets. And honestly, unless you aggressively pull out a huge folder in a public place, or in the wrong circumstances (a fight, for example), no one will ever search you anyway.
As for habits, most people (men, mainly) living and working in rural areas tend to carry a knife. Here in Sardinia for example shepherds usually carry one. In urban areas, it's not that common, and most people might carry a small SAK or similar. Obviously, knife lovers are another matter... :rolleyes:

Fausto
:cool:
 
Hi friends,

Here a touch of modernity from :

- Roberto Serra, a slip joint and a friction folder, both with a titanium handle

tumblr_nqgfthoohi1u4o2dio1_1280.jpg


- Roberto Serra Davide Steri and Gigi Sechi for the first one and R. Serra alone for the two others :

tumblr_nqgfudYMNt1u4o2dio1_1280.jpg


Warm regards ;):thumbup:

Â
 
Miami International Airport.

The two under cover Miami-Dade police officers were a study of purposeful disinterest. One, in a wrinkled white Pierre Cardin suit and a two day shadow of beard stubble was looking over a magazine rack, while an arms length away a young African American man in an impeccable gray suit and sunglasses watched the crown while leaning against the wall in the bookstore. Crowds of departing and arriving tourists drifted by, and were unaware of the scrutiny of the two cops.

"Are we sure about the information, Sonny?" asked 'Rico' Tubbs.

His partner glanced over the airport and replied in a low gravely voice, " It could be good or bad, partner. But when Castillo says cover the airport, we cover it."

Both men suddenly tensed, and watched the luggage carousel with renewed interest. Bags of all kinds were now coming out of the opening and people of all kinds were now picking over the bags as they came out and went around. Sonny and Rico watched as a older man with a gray flat cap and white shirt hanging out over the black trousers picked up a small suitcase. The followed him closely planing on grabbing him as he left the airport. They hung back in case, to see it he was operating alone or had any confederates close by. The suspect walked a short way and went into a men's room. Sony and Rico staked out the mens room from a short distance away.

Inside the older bearded man who picked up the suitcase from the overseas flight, ducked into a stall and quickly opened the suitcase. He pulled out cloth bag and a balled up nylon daypack. Tucking the cloth bag into the nylon pack, he then took off his flat cap and shoved it down inside the toilet paper container. He took out a rolled up khaki bucket hat from his pants pocket and pulled it down on his head. He then took off the baggy white shirt, revealing a black Tommy Bahama short sleeve shirt with bright green palm trees on it, and shoved the white shirt down in back of the toilet. Then he pulled a black collapsable cane out of the suitcase and opened it up. Adding some dark sunglasses, he walked out of the men's room leaving the suitcase discarded in the men's room stall with his appearance totally changed. Neither Sonny or Rico took notice of the old man on a cane who limped out of the men's room with a bright red nylon pack over one shoulder.

After a very short time, Sonny and Rico sensed something wrong, and charged into the men's room. Finding it empty, they knew they'd been had, and ran for the main lobby of the airport.

Outside the main entrance, the old bearded man in the palm tree print shirt got into the passenger seat of the Fiat 500 Abarth that pulled up from where the driver had been watching the door. No sooner than the bearded man was seated in the car, the driver, a a blond 30 something woman, dumped the clutch and with a squeal of tires, pulled out of the airport. A moment later, the two detectives ran out and looked for the geared man, bu the Fiat was already lost in traffic.

"Damm, Castillo's gonna have our hides!" cursed Sonny.

In the Fiat, the man puled the cloth bag out of the nylon pack, and examined the contents. LOng slim bladed knives with graceful leaf shaped blades gleamed in the Florida sun. Horn handles in hues ranging from honey blond to midnight black held the needle pointed blades. The driver glanced over while making her way quickly through the Miami traffic.

"Is it all there, Dad?" she asked the old man.

"We got it all, Jess. It's a good shipment, and these are all going into the hands of American knife nuts. In a few days, another few dozen people will know the pleasure of owning and using the Resolza."

The driver downshifted the Abarth and passed a slower car with a throaty growl, and left the highway and faded off into downtown Miami.
---------------------------------------------------------------------

Bulletin:

B.O.L.O. for this individual. He is wanted for questioning in possible smuggling of merchandise that has not been through customs.
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