Brittany: A Country within a Country
The ramparts of Saint-Malo on the Brittany coast.
by Marla Norman & Michel Thibault
Photos by Marla Norman unless otherwise noted
Avel Breizh (Brittany Winds) are kicking up the surf and howling the day we arrive in Saint-Malo. Dozens of kite-surfers dot the sky, their rainbow-colored sails are splashed across the horizon. The daring acrobatics displayed by these athletes is mind-boggling — spinning, flipping, plummeting into a freezing ocean and then suddenly reemerging, airborne yet again. Mesmerizing! Michel and I can not stop watching.
Wind and sea are two of the defining features of this northwestern Atlantic outpost. Elements that have undoubtedly contributed to the Breton character — resolute and fiercely independent. Brittany is very much it’s own world — part of France, but a culture apart as well.
The region was originally settled in the 5th century by Celtic tribes from Britain (hence the name) who were escaping Saxon invaders. In France, these Celt descendants continue to maintain their language – Breton. Bagpipes are still common and Stonehenge-like dolmens and menhirs dot the countryside.
SAINT-MALO’S SUPER SAILORS
The region’s largest city, Saint-Malo sits mid-way down the 150 mile (240 kilometer) Brittany coast. Bishop Malo, ordained in Wales, founded the city in the 6th century. By the early 12th century, Saint-Malo, with its strategic location on the Atlantic coast, had become a significant port. Eventually, the city became all the more valuable as a site for the French Corsairs.
Not to be confused with “pirates”, the corsairs were an elite group of superb sailors and navigators hired by the French Crown to seize enemy ships. “Corsair captains were bound by certain formalities. Unlike pirates, they were not permitted to sink ships, pillage or to harm a crew. On reaching port, the corsair captain remitted the ship to the Crown authorities, along with the passengers and cargo. After auctioning off the ship and cargo, the Crown retained one-tenth of the profits, while the corsairs were rewarded the rest, a profitable undertaking few would deny.” (The Corsairs of France by Charles Boswell Norman, 1887)
Saint-Malo claims two of the most renowned corsairs as native sons: René Duguay-Trouin and Robert Surcouf. Duguay-Trouin captured more than 300 merchant ships and 20 warships, primarily belonging to England.
Robert Surcouf operated in the Indian Ocean in the late 1700s, capturing British and Portuguese ships. He was so successful, he was awarded the French Legion of Honor. Five ships in the French Navy have been named for Surcouf, including a stealth frigate in operation today. We take a walk on the ramparts surrounding Saint-Malo to see a statue of Surcouf and imagine these swashbuckling characters.
Robert Surcouf – a corsair and one of France’s most esteemed naval heroes. On the Saint-Malo ramparts he eternally points across the Channel to England, the perennial French antagonist.
Ar Iniz on Saint-Malo beach — marvelous views to accompany fresh seafood platters. Photo courtesy of Ar Iniz.
Continuing our walk on the ramparts, we run into the statue of yet another famous Saint-Malo sailor — Jacques Cartier, the first European to map the Saint Lawrence Seaway and the shores of the Saint Lawrence River, that he named “The Country of Canadas.”
Taking a break from touristing, we find a spot at Ar Iniz — with a large, well-loved terrace right on the beach. The brisk sea air has made us especially hungry. We order an enormous plate of langoustines, oysters and bulots (sea snails) washing it all down with Val de Rance (Brittany Cider).
MEDIEVAL MAKE-OVER
Later that evening, we stroll the Vieille Ville, looking for the few medieval buildings that existed before World War II. Between Allied bombers and retreating Nazis setting fires, over 80% of Saint-Malo was destroyed during the war.
La Grand’ Porte entrance to Saint-Malo featuring coats of arms for both Saint-Malo and Brittany.
Cathédrale Saint-Vincent – Founded in the 6th century, the church has been severely damaged on numerous occasions, most recently during World War II. The Great Rose Window was installed in 1968.
Initially city authorities planned to raze Saint-Malo and build anew, much as nearby Le Havre and Brest. But, in the end, the proud Breton residents opted for reconstruction despite the mammoth task of sorting through 500,000 cubic meters of rubble. Stones on partially standing buildings were carefully numbered before being dismantled and stored so that they could be used to rebuild. Forty years later, in 1987, the new-old Saint-Malo was completed.
Later, we walk back along the beach to our hotel, the thoroughly modern Le Grand Hôtel des Thermes. At the hotel restaurant, Le Cap Horn, a blazing sun disappears into the ocean along with the last of the kite-surfers.
CANCALE’S OYSTER KINGS
It’s early morning in Cancale, but the oyster vendors have already opened their booths and are arranging les huîtres on platters – freshly harvested and unbelievably delicious! The entire town smells of sweet brine and a recent rain still hangs in the air. We approach one of the stands and pick out a dozen oysters — some are more than four inches across! Within seconds, the vendor skillfully pries open the shells and douses them with lemon.
We take our breakfast to a nearby seawall overlooking a mountain of oyster shells, tossed throughout the years by diners like ourselves. Even better, an oyster farm sits another 500 yards away. Dozens of small tractors move to attend the beds. Flatbed trucks load up to deliver fresh cargo to restaurants in the area. It’s an impressive operation and great entertainment.
Cancale – pretty village famous for France’s best oysters!
CHÂTEAU RICHEUX & LE COQUILLAGE
Just outside Cancale, about ten-minutes is Château Richeux, an elegant 13-room villa built in the 1920s. Situated on a high cliff, the property has extraordinary views, from the Channel Islands to Mont Saint-Michel. And, of course, sunsets are predictably spectacular.
When we first arrive, we sit in the gardens with a glass of Champagne and take in the scenery. However, we’re here primarily to experience Le Coquillage, the 3-star Michelin restaurant featuring the Bretagne-inspired creations of Chef Hugo Roellinger. Friends we know from the region have praised the restaurant and the Michelin committee described Le Coquillage as “a marvel of balance…a cuisine whose apparent simplicity conceals an unrivalled subtlety in the harmony of flavours, and a particular talent for the use of spices.”
Château Richeux, 13-room villa and home to 3-star Michelin restaurant Le Coquillage.
Not surprisingly, the ocean is omnipresent at Le Coquillage. The window by our table in the small, intimate dining room faces the same views we had enjoyed outside and most of the 10-courses feature seafood. We start with two perfect oysters, silky-smooth with a dollop of chili sauce.
The oysters are followed by pollock in a cream sauce between two ultra-thin potato crisps. This dish is accompanied by house-made bread and Brittany butter. Next up are beautifully-plated scallops in hibiscus cream, seasoned with black cardamom.
A true show-stopper is a spider crab marinated with verbena pepper and served in a sauce made from vinegar, maritime pine and fennel oil. Spiced, but incredibly delicate and light. Then, slices of grilled cuttlefish arrive with a green coulis made of watercress, spinach and almond milk, as well as herbs: sorrel, winter purslane, and watercress.
Two perfect oysters with a dollop of chili sauce.
Beautifully plated scallops in hibiscus cream, seasoned with black Cardamom.
Crepe Cone with cream made from turmeric and the restaurant’s own honey. Heavenly!
One of my favorite dishes is a dessert (there were several) — a crunchy crepe cone filled with cream made from turmeric and honey from the restaurant’s own beehives — beautiful and so tasty.
Later, back in the lounge, over the last of our desserts and coffee, Michel and I compare notes. For me, Le Coquillage was a stellar experience. Not only were the dishes superb, but I found Chef Roellinger’s use of local ingredients and embrace of Brittany cuisine to be extraordinary — a totally unique menu. Beyond that, the service and setting were everything a 3-star Michelin should be.
Michel has a slightly different take, so I’ll turn the page over to my lovable travel partner:
For me, there are different levels of restaurants. My father, who was a very good cook, had a number of small restaurants throughout his life and he enjoyed cooking bistro foods. By bistro food, I mean dishes that featured three or so ingredients where flavor harmony was easy to achieve. For instance, living in the French Alps, he often cooked Trout Grenobloise. There were lots of trouts in the mountain streams near our home and my Dad would fry the fillet of fish in a brown lemon butter sauce with capers. A satisfying dish with the aroma of capers adding a nice herbal touch to the wild fish. He’d say, “The only way to make it good is to be sure the sauce has fully browned to get that nutty flavor.”
House-made bread with Brittany butter and a bottle of Domaine Roulot Meursault. Perfect!
Why am I saying all that? Because in two and three-star Michelin restaurants, where the best chefs in the world work, it is expected of them to create dishes that feature seven-eight and sometimes more items to produce a masterpiece. My Dad could never have done that, he was not trained for it. But when these high-end restaurants succeed in producing that magic, it is incredible. Sometimes, however, the dish does not quite reach that level and that’s when it’s tough because you as a customer spent a whole lot of money for that meal.
At Le Coquillage, most dishes were extraordinary, but a couple of them left me puzzled and not thrilled. Either something was missing or there was something too much. I should not be a harsh critic, as the total experience was spectacular, but what can I say, I am a critical being. I just hope that if they read this, they’ll still let me in the door!
BACK TO CANCALE
Actually, one of my favorite meals in Brittany were the oysters we had on the seawall in Cancale — Marla referred to it previously as our breakfast. I have always loved oysters but really did not know anything about them, so visiting one of the world’s best oyster-growing cities gave me a wealth of information and appreciation. Here are a few tidbits in case you were in the dark as I was:
Cancale oysters — considered some of the best in the world.
Oysters spawn in the summer so they are less plump and flavorful at that time, as they are spending their energy on reproduction. The rule of thumb is to eat them during months with an R in them (September through April)
There are two basic kinds of oysters in Cancale: Pacific oysters, farmed on platforms in the Bay (rich in nutrients) and flat oysters farmed in deeper water (seemed to be preferred by oyster lovers)
Oysters are rated by size (1 to 6 or sometimes 1 to 7) Size 1 is the largest but usually referred to as the lowest in terms of quality. Best when baked, served au gratin etc. Sizes 3 and 4 are best consumed raw.
To eat an oyster, you can swallow it whole. But oyster fans prefer to chew it gently. The subtle flavors of almonds, other nuts and cucumber really come out. Europeans typically don’t eat oysters with hot sauce or horseradish but a few drops of lemon or shallot vinegar.
BRITTANY VERSUS NORMANDY
Brittany, like Normandy has a rich history in food and both regions are rivals in many ways. Take crêpes for instance — Normands and Bretons both claim to have invented them. In Brittany, they are often called “galettes“. There are sweet crêpes, smallish and thin and generally filled with sugar, caramel, strawberry jam or bananas. You are likely to have sampled one of those from a Paris street vendor and while those are very pleasant, they don’t come close to the real Brittany crepes, which are both savory and made from buckwheat instead of regular wheat. Savory because they are often filled with sausage, ham, mushrooms and/or Gruyere cheese. They are a wider and thicker version. And of course, you know that buckwheat flour is much better for you: gluten free, rich in vegetable protein and fiber and anti oxidant. Plus it tastes better!
Traditional Brittany Crêpes called “galettes” and usually made from buckwheat.
Yummy Kouign-amann pastry, a Brittany specialty.
Two cheeses from Brittany are well known: Saint-Paulin, a semi-firm texture cows’ milk cheese, with a style similar to Havarti, but a slightly firmer body so it’s easy to slice. Somewhat fruity, it is quite mild for Europeans, but a good starter cheese if you want to make forays into that world. Like many cheeses, it was originated by monks. The second cheese is Port Salut, another Trappist Monk creation — a creamy pasty cheese, with a slightly acidic flavor. You can eat the orange-colored rind, but most folks don’t. Port Salut is also on the milder side of the French cheese selections.
Now for one of our favorite Brittany foods — a fantastic pastry called Kouign-amann (pronounced “queen a-mahn”). The name itself comes from the Breton words for “cake” (kouign) and “butter” (amann). This is a round, sweet pastry made with layers of dough, butter, and sugar. The whole thing is slowly baked until the sugar carmelizes. Be sure to buy it in a pastry shop, not in a standard grocery store or gift shop, as those can be very disappointing. Try that pastry. You will be instantly addicted.
Marla & Michel eating their way across France.
