A gastronomic cruise in South Brittany
In June this year, Sea Miste set out from Yarmouth, IOW, bound for Benodet to begin a new phase of her life in the Bay of Biscay. The night before her departure, the crew, setting a splendid gastronomic baseline, took themselves to the King's Head to enjoy overflowing platters of the crispest fish and chips washed down with brimming bumpers of English ale. Over the next couple of days, with the wind well ahead of the beam all the way to the Chenal de Four, Marks and Spencer's canned stews powered the crew as they wrestled bravely with the autopilot and fought off fatigue to remember how to enter waypoints in the GPS.
On arrival at Benodet the passage crew departed leaving me to await Cathie's arrival and the start of a wild spell of weather which encouraged some exploration ashore. Gastronomy changed and cod and chips gave way to skate poached gently in a pan of raspberries, the sharpness of which alternately challenged and complemented the fresh acidity of the accompanying muscadet. Muscadet today, as with many white wines from the northern areas of France, has benefited from improved management of the vines and modern vinification methods. They are a superb accompaniment to the fish and shellfish of the coast.
The Bay of Biscay is a vast fishing ground but the western end of the coastline of south Brittany is particularly wonderful for lovers of fish and shellfish. The fish markets of Concarneau and Quimper are a sight to behold. At Quimper we bought turbot quite cheaply and grilled it on board - delicious. Grilling, if done carefully, is an excellent way to cook all sorts of fish on board. Served with lightly boiled vegetables it couldn't be healthier. For a richer meal, a little white wine boiled with cream and seasoned is quick and allows the fish to speak for itself.
Lovers of meat are not neglected, the local poultry is good and the famous lamb from the salt meadows of northern Brittany is unusual and delicious.
Market gardening is a big industry in Brittany and the twice weekly vegetable market at Concarneau shows why the area is one of the gardens of France. A bus trip to pay homage to the artists of Pont Aven passes through Tregunc where the dark soil produces rich root vegetables and sweet salads. A delicious apple ice cream at the Hôtel des Bains de Mer at Benodet reminded us that orchard fruits are as important in Brittany as they are in Normandy. Not far away, the village of Plougastel is said to grow the finest strawberries in France. In June the cream and nutmeg flavoured potatoes of the island of Noirmoutier are harvested. I believe the growers still lift the entire crop in one day, ninety days after planting.
In Port la Fôret, nestling at the head of the Bay of Concarneau, a friend joined us for a few days. We ate Noirmoutier potatoes with chicken breasts cooked on board as follows: in a saucepan caramelise a large onion so that it is brown, sweet and sticky. Add three chicken breasts (uncooked, which take a while to cook, or cooked from the markets, which are good and only need reheating). Sprinkle with dried or fresh thyme and pepper. Add two or three teaspoons of prepared Béarnaise sauce and 125 ml of cream. In France, the supermarkets sell a very good 5% fat longlife cream which is very easy to cook with. Bring the sauce to the boil to thicken the cream, taste and adjust seasoning, and serve.
Shellfish were not far away at Port la Fôret. It has a good small shellfish market whilst the Café du Port - wooden benches and paper tablecloths - provides exemplary unfussy cooking. We had enormous spider crabs. There are limits as to the size of creature that can be handled on a small boat. Many years ago in Douranenez we were returning to a large yacht in the inflatable. The live lobster we had bought escaped from its bag and broke the elastic bands on its claws. We were not sure whether to be more scared for our feet or the inflation tubes! Cooking it aboard was another riotous tale! Whilst large crabs and lobsters are tricky to handle all sorts of smaller shellfish are very manageable on a Twister. We have a large pan which holds a decent serving of langoustines or mussels. The former are now expensive in France but mussels are cheap and versatile.
Later, in Port Crouesty at the mouth of the Gulf of Morbihan, our neighbour aboard one of the typical twenty foot fishing boats which the French love so much showed us the catch from his lobster pot (they all seem to have one!). I admired some tiny green crabs. "Pour la soupe!" I trilled. He looked shocked and caught his breath, clutching at his chest. "Non! non! étrilles" he coughed. He explained that these tiny olive green crabs are far too good for soup. They should be cooked in boiling water for a nanosecond and then crunched, chewed and sucked with ecstatic enthusiasm. Apart from a gastronomic lesson we also learned , yet again, the linguistic lesson that in French context is everything. Looking up étrilles in the dictionary we discovered that it means a velvet swimming crab if you are talking to a fisherman, or currycomb if you are talking to a stable lad. Equestrian fishermen who want to explain that they are going home to cook their crabs before grooming their horse are thus offered a useful saving in vocabulary.
One morning at Port Crouesty we read cookery books in our bunk with a cup of tea. It had to be stuffed oysters for lunch, we decided. Oysters are surprisingly cheap in Brittany considering the work needed to raise them but we are not crazy about their texture. When cooked lightly and stuffed with a herby buttery mixture they appeal rather more to us. Our Breton cookery book began "Take a pound of butter….". Perhaps not. This is our method, but there are many. For a dozen oysters finely chop two shallots and sauté them for a few minutes in three tablespoons of the very best olive oil, keeping the temperature low to preserve the aromatic flavours. Add half a glass of muscadet and let it reduce slowly over a low heat. Meanwhile open the oysters and add the juices to the pan so that they also reduce. Away from the heat, add two cloves of garlic and a very generous quantity of parsley, chopped finely, and a pinch of paprika. Add a knob of butter and whisk it in. Lay the oysters in a grill tray, add the mixture to the oysters in their half shells and grill for about five minutes until bubbling. Serve with bread and Muscadet.
Our final days of cruising, before we left Sea Miste there, were spent in the River Vilaine. Above the dam at Arzal, five miles from the sea, twenty miles of freshwater stretch as far as Redon providing a charming inland cruising ground. Chestnut woods abound and Redon has long been a centre for the sale of culinary products containing chestnuts. One of these is a chicken terrine and the shops and restaurants of the town each have their own recipe. On board, to get a flavour of these without the work that clearly goes in to some of them you could chop up half a pound of chicken liver, three quarters of a pound of raw chicken, and a quarter of a pound of streaky bacon. Add three tablespoons of chopped parsley, one tablespoon each of thyme and chopped sage. Mix with two beaten two eggs and a chopped onion. Stir in half a pound of cooked peeled chestnuts in chunky pieces. Season and spoon into a buttered terrine. Cover and stand in a dish of water in the oven at a high setting for an hour. Those without an oven could use a small pudding bowl standing in a covered pan of simmering water on the hob.
We have met so many people over the years who love cooking on board and it's easy to see why. In France especially, with her regional, and often local, specialities there is a constant pleasure in finding new ingredients and ideas at each port.
Philip and Cathie Colcutt
Sea Miste