Anne de Bretagne ★★★★

We arrive in time to check into our rooms before heading downstairs to the restaurant for our first slap-up meal. The minimalist white décor, fluffy white bedspreads and sober furnishings set off the strikingly blue view outside the bay windows. The flashy cherry red and lime green of the quirky modern armchairs stand out like sails against the liquidy background. I step out onto the balcony to get a good dose of the salty sea air. The wind is picking up. Quaint and colourful fishing boats in the little harbour of La Gravette are buffeted about on the waves. My grandfather lived and died in this region, at the age of 103. He always swore his longevity was thanks to the sea air and the fresh seafood – lubricates the brain was how he put it.

Meal n°1 – Upon booking, I had enquired as to whether it would be possible for the chef, Philippe Vételé, to come and have a word with my parents on our first night. “Absolutely,” was the answer I got on the phone. I see now, it wasn’t even necessary as he makes his way through all the tables to ask how things are going, and if his guests are enjoying their meals. He does linger at our table a bit longer however and joins us for a drink at the end of our meal. We are naturally extremely complimentary – I think we’re embarrassing him a bit. Our beautifully seasoned lobster was succulent and the curious desserts made us laugh out loud, they were so good! Who would have thought that with ingredients like locally-grown carrots, cumin ice-cream or celery you could create such delicious desserts? Philippe bids us good night, he has to get up early for the markets in the morning.

Meal n°2 – Our brains well lubricated after last night’s meal, we decide to try out the meat for lunch. My father takes great pleasure in sucking the meat off the legs of his supreme de pigeon, the expression on his weathered face is just priceless. My mother and I choose the lamb medallions, cooked to perfection and accompanied by diced vegetables (grown locally in the Pays de Retz region). It shouldn’t go unmentioned that the cheese course is fabulous here. Pascal Beillevaire, a highly-esteemed local cheese producer, supplies the hotel with cheeses that burst with refined flavour.   

Meal n°3 – We’re feeling a little full by now so we decide to have oysters, prepared in three different and original ways, on the hotel terrace accompanied by a Muscadet from nearby Nantes’ vineyards and recommended by Michèle Vételé). To speed up digestion – we don’t want to spoil our last meal tomorrow – my brother and I take a brisk walk along the coast with our beloveds, leaving our parents to relax on the terrace, face à la mer, with blankets and hot cups of tea to shield them from the breeze. The sky is a hazy pink and the sun is rapidly setting. Makes me think of another thing our grandfather used to say, “Rouge le soir, espoir” – or as I learnt it, “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.”

Meal n°4 – We played tennis this morning to make room for our last meal. We basically intend on trying everything on the menu we haven’t already tasted. And that’s what we set about doing: monkfish, roast in squid ink, served with its coulis of velvet crabs; hare à la royale, with trumpet mushrooms; a fisherman’s marmite overflowing with shellfish. We pass our forks around, trying to savour every last flavour before we have to leave this afternoon.

Heavy stomach and heavy heart, I say goodbye to my parents. 60 years of marriage and they’re still going strong. Must be something in the air…