A fishy tale from Brittany:

OLIVIER ROELLINGER, SPICE KING OF CANCALE
FT Weekend

‘Our special dream ... is to discover and share with you the magic of the bay of Mont Saint Michel where sky, earth and sea merge before the Archangel Michael, and where the peace and tranquility of the bay, together with the winds and the changing tides, will overwhelm you.’

French is famous for its purple prose, and some of the purplest is to be found in the brochures of top hotels and restaurants. The Maison de Bricourt in Cancale (from which the above quote comes) is no exception. But chef-patron Olivier Roellinger is such a disarmingly charming person, and the place so wonderful that you can forgive his linguistic excesses while allowing yourself to get slightly swept along by his special dream and the magic of the bay - not to mention his extraordinary food.

            The Maison de Bricourt comprises three different operations: the eponymous restaurant in the town of Cancale; Les Rimains, a six-bedroomed seaside house-hotel within walking distance of the restaurant, built on a clifftop in 1988 by the Roellingers with views over the bay and the oyster beds; and their luxury hotel-restaurant Château Richeux at the other side of the bay.

            Roellinger - his family comes originally from Thann in Alsace, hence the distinctly un-Breton name - has been variously described as shy genius, alchemist of Cancale and King of Spices. Following a horrific accident in 1979 (of which he still - literally and figuratively - bears the scars) he felt a need to return to his roots, to re-evaluate his life and where he was going.

A chemistry student at the time, he decided to transfer his scientific studies from laboratory to kitchen. In 1992 he opened the restaurant Maison de Bricourt. Following in the footsteps of the great seafaring adventurers of Saint Malo who went in search of the spice islands, and yet still firmly rooted in his Breton land with its fishermen, mussel and oyster farmers and market gardeners, Roellinger practises a cuisine which is a sensitive and sensuous amalgam of the native and the exotic.

            The restaurant is housed in the former family home; to gain entry, you ring the bell and the door is opened by Madame Roellinger mère. In the main dining room, where Roellinger’s wife is the hostess, there are six tables and a handful more in the hallway. There’s a further salle-cum-conservatory nextdoor.

The house pain aux algues (a light brown loaf flavoured with seaweed and baked in a wood-fired oven in the gardens of the Château Richeux) smacks delectably of the sea and is served with soft, salty Breton butter. You can munch on it thoughtfully while perusing the menu; further food for thought is provided by the amuse-gueule, a tiny heap of lightly fried squid rings reposing on a glistening rock set on a bed of seaweed.

            The first time I went there, the tasting menu opened with sea snails with parsley, whelks with garlic and cockles with curry, each cradled in an upturned limpet shell embedded in sea salt. Slip soles - filleted, pan-fried and neatly stacked together again - came with new potatoes, chanterelles, fresh crunchy almonds, spring onions and leek strips.

The wine list is strong on Loire wines, near neighbours of (and natural partners for) the stunning fish and shellfish of Brittany. Outside the bow window, the ducks on the pond provide endless entertainment, skittering, nose-diving and executing an elaborate toilette from time to time.

            Things got interestingly spicy with the Saint Pierre ‘Retour des Indes’, fillets of John Dory in a sauce with oriental overtones based on a fourteen-spice mixture from a supplier in Saint Malo. For the petit homard aux saveurs de l’Ile aux Epices all (or most) of the hard work involved in dissecting a lobster had been taken care of: half the crustacean and one perfectly de-shelled claw were set on a subtly aromatic, brilliant yellow sauce.

The spice theme took another turn with the saddle of lamb à la broche, épices douces “Grande Caravane”. The ready-carved and discreetly reassembled saddle of lamb was served on plates which fairly throb with heat, a device which releases and further accentuates the latent aromas of the spices which liberally speckle the dish.

            The cheese trolley was well furnished with offerings from near and far, and dessert choices included peach, blackcurrant and apricot ice cream with fresh almonds, little (hot) chocolate morsels with a mocha ice cream or a tempting ‘Invitation au Voyage’ consisting of a millefeuille of pineapple and banana accompanied by a hot rum toddy.

            Guests are received at Les Rimains by the kindly and hospitable Madame Annette. The atmosphere is cosy and intimate, much like that of an extremely comfortable seaside holiday home. An alternative billet is the Château Maison Richeux, the crowning ‘folly’ of the Roellingers (as they themselves describe it).

Built originally in the 1920’s and reminiscent of the sort of timbered and turreted mansions you meet in Deauville and Trouville, the house was sumptuously restored and transformed into a hotel in 1992. The restaurant (Le Coquillage) is somewhat lower-key than the Maison de Bricourt, though supplies are centrally purchased and cooking on both sites is overseen by Roellinger.

The great old garden has been restored and now houses many old varieties of fruit trees, Roellinger’s beehives and his wood-fired bread oven from which tempting smells billow forth three times a week.

            Voted Cuisinier de l’Année in 1994 by Gault Millau, awarded two stars in the Michelin guide and the best-selling author of a stunning tome on fish and seafood, Roellinger seems unstoppable. It certainly took courage in the early 90s to invest to the tune to which Roellinger invested. His native Alsatian professionalism, instinctive flair and great good sense have demonstrably stood him in good stead, even in the chill winds blowing across the bay of Mont Saint Michel.