Many of us cross the channel on holidays or business. You might just be back from summer adventures yourself. The 35 minute trip via Le Chunnel scarcely leaves time for a cup of tea, but longer ferry routes allow more leisurely refreshment. Sadly, this often falls into the categories of ‘functional fuel’ or ‘boredom grazing’. However, head to the western channel ports or direct Spanish sailings and Brittany Ferries have made quality regional food an integral part of their offer. Proper à la carte restaurants, professional service, fine wine lists and white toqued chefs in open kitchens make dining at sea a joy rather than a necessary evil.
Full disclosure: I do these routes often and have done for over 50 years. I’ve had many memorable meals and still salivate at recollections of the spectacular ‘Gargantuan’ – half a roasted suckling piglet (for sharing, allegedly) which used to reflect Segovia’s speciality on the Spanish crossings. How quickly the English coastline fades and the journey passes as your tastebuds fling themselves into full-on continental pleasure mode.
With evocative names such as ‘Le Littoral’, ‘Les Romantiques’ or ‘Le Flora’, each boat has its own unique restaurants and kitchen crew. A shared Gallic flair sees the head chefs gather regularly to create signature dishes and seasonal menus that reflect their cultural heritage. Think confit Breton pork shoulder with browned sage butter, roast halibut with garlic cream sauce and local artichokes barigoule, or Cotriade – a hearty fisherman’s stew traditionally made with potatoes and the oily fish typical of these wild Atlantic shores. Maybe just a classic entrecôte frites cooked in front of you for those of more bistronomic preferences. Well-drilled sommeliers can safely offer recommendations from a classy wine list knowing that on these longer (often overnight) crossings, no one will be driving for a while and foot passengers may have no such concerns.
'Think confit Breton pork shoulder with browned sage butter'
Onboard bakeries for your morning croissants and breads? Oui, bien sur. More impressively, the restaurants benefit from their own artisanal patisserie, with eight pastry chefs handmaking desserts designed solely for the delight of their ferry passengers. A regularly featured pistachio and dark chocolate marquis with a layer of crisped crêpes has been wooing discerning palates long before a certain faddish chocolate confection from Dubai was ever conceived. Add in the ever-popular hors d’oeuvre buffet laden with langoustines, pâté de campagne, rillettes and a daunting array of other tasty morsels, aperitifs and crudites alongside a fromagerie sized cut-your-own cheese selection to rival any top-class establishment and you can see why there’s always a queue when the restaurant service begins.
So how did this come about? And why so different from the uniform fast food often associated with transport and travel? The answers lie in geography, ambition, politics, and a powerful cultural identity.
Like Cornwall and Jersey, the sandy soils and mild climate of Finistère in Western Brittany are perfect for ‘primeurs’ or early vegetables: Roscoff onions, roseval potatoes, shallots, garlic, cauliflower, cabbages, artichokes, carrots. In the early 1970s, Alexis Gourvennec, an enterprising and ambitious young Breton farmer and agricultural trade-unionist was keen to sell his produce to a wider audience. But Brittany was physically remote and politically undervalued in a largely centralised country like France. He felt frustrated by the lack of opportunity and perception of state neglect for his region’s high quality produce and economic interests.
Looking across the water to Britain – a new member of the Common Market – seemed a better bet. Demand was already there. From the late 1800s the bicycling ‘onion Johnnies’ of Roscoff had crossed the waters on a seasonal basis and successfully sold strings of their eponymous pink alliums to discerning British households.
Gourvennec had a much bigger vision though. He wanted a farmer-owned ferry service that was uniquely Breton. This would be more sustainable and profitable, would give a direct trade and travel route to France’s westernmost region, would remain controlled by the key beneficiaries and would actively promote Breton food, produce and culture while avoiding national bureaucracy.
Despite unlikely odds, Gourvennec’s ambition and drive coupled with the ‘cooperative’ ethos of French agriculture meant that Brittany Ferries was born in 1973. The very first sailings between Plymouth and Roscoff were bulk freight only on a quickly repurposed vessel that had originally been built as a tank carrier.
'We played tag on decks open to the sea alongside piles of vegetables'
Through informal channels, tiny numbers of foot passengers started gaining access to this new direct link to rural France. The only facilities then were a communal lounge and coffee pot shared with farmers and hauliers – certainly no catering. As a child of an adventurous Francophile family living near Plymouth, I was a pioneer on those routes from the outset. Far from luxurious, we whiled away the hours playing impromptu games of football or tag on decks open to the sea alongside piles of vegetables – risks that would now be unheard of. It was obvious that with a few changes, people could easily travel alongside pork and potatoes, and a proper passenger service was very quickly added. Today, that single crossing in a secondhand boat has expanded to a fleet of nine ships serving more than 25 routes between France, England, Spain and Ireland. But if some things have changed markedly, the essentials have not. This was always a ferry service founded on food and cultural pride.
Brittany Ferries remains primarily owned by local farmers’ cooperatives and agricultural interests supported by the chambers of commerce around its home port of Roscoff. It retains its focus on proudly promoting local products and identity while playing an important role in supporting the regional economy.
For me that ‘origin story’ and my own longstanding personal connections still bring a smile as I sit down to breakfast, lunch or dinner on board. Not only am I on my travels with the car safely below, but I’m already enjoying regional cuisine while the sea flows gently by. And while not guaranteed, there aren’t many restaurants where you might see dolphins,
porpoise and even occasionally whales from your table. Don’t linger too long though, as you don’t want to be that person sipping their coffee obliviously while fellow travellers curse your empty car blocking the front of the disembarkation line.
