René Rittaud patiently finishes removing the fat from pieces of meat in the sauerkraut pot. This massive casserole has been simmering in the spacious kitchen workshop of the butcher's shop in Fourneaux (Savoie, in the French Alps) since the store opened at 7:30 am. His 78 years and health concerns have not persuaded him to lay down his apron. It's been over 55 years since he moved the butchery founded in 1945 by his parents, Joanny and Paulette, from Haute-Savoie to this village near Modane.

In 2004, he in turn passed the business on to his son Lionel and daughter-in-law Mathilde, while continuing to work with them. In 2012, Alexis, the couple's eldest son – already "coming to help make sausages" since the age of 10 – joined the business. Over four generations, the 80-year history of this line of butchers tells the story of the evolution of the profession, of small-scale commerce and of consumer habits.

When Joanny, who has since passed away, opened his own butcher's shop in 1945, France was in the middle of economic reconstruction. "Back then, they could open a store and just make a living out of it," Lionel said. "There were fewer constraints in terms of charges, regulations and borrowing than there are now," added the man who learned the trade from both his father and grandfather at an early age.

In the late 1960s, René and his wife Josiane moved to Fourneaux and lived above the store, raised the shutters at 5 am, and stayed open for lunch and Sunday mornings. With Joanny, they used their day off on Monday to collect cattle from local farmers and slaughter them. "If we didn't stop for a drink, the guys were not happy!" recalled René.

Lionel, 52, is still in the habit of meeting local livestock farmers. He had returned from a bike ride in the Maurienne Valley on September 28, on a route chosen according to the herds to be seen. The butcher likes to see how the animals are faring on-site, and get a feel for the farmer and their methods of farming.

But his daily life as a butcher is very different from that of his ancestors. In the space of 20 years, his small business has grown from three to nine employees, and now has its meat carcasses delivered directly to the shop, where they are cut up on the premises. It remains closed two days a week, Sunday and Monday. "My father and grandfather lived and breathed work," recalled Lionel. "So do we, but family life and professional life are two separate places."

'It was difficult for my mother and grandmother'

When it came to Lionel and Mathilde taking over the butcher's shop, they hesitated. Lionel had always seen his mother "complaining in the butcher's shop." In those days, the butcher's wife managed not only family life, but also the clientele, the store's accounts and the washing of aprons in the sink, while remaining in the shadow of the business owner. "It was difficult for my mother and grandmother," admitted Lionel. So he warned Mathilde: "I'll take over the butcher's shop, but I won't have you ever reproaching me about doing a shitty job!" It was out of the question for him to put his relationship "at risk because of work."

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