# 263: Kouign Amann in Quimper

A first taste of Brittany.

Oct 17, 2024

The first snow on the mountains arrives and on a nearly full moon night I light the first fire in the wood-stove. I set the soup pot on top where it will most often be found until late spring when the tulips blossom. Warmed by the flames, I sit in my father’s chair, bought new in 1963 and placed in the living room of the one and only house my parents ever bought. I watch the moon rise through the windows to the east and settle in to write to you.

Where Did that Train Take You?

After my few hours in Paris, I am back on a train—a high speed one this time and the first of two that will take me to Brittany. Public transportation in Europe is great and not all that hard…especially when someone else has done the leg work and made your reservations which, in this case, is Bruce, the organizer of the walk.

As soon as the train is out of Paris proper, traffic fades away, towns are smaller, quieter. I board a second train and see farmland and forests as we travel deeper through Brittany, finally arriving in Quimper. This year I am walking not too far from where I walked a little over twelve months ago…as the crow flies.

Some from that walk in the Channel Islands between France and England will once again be my trailmates. Others are new to me. Once at the hotel, which is home for the night, I head to my room to freshen up, then come downstairs for a welcoming glass of wine and a first chat with everyone before heading out the door for dinner at a lovely bistro that is close to Saint Corentin Cathedral.

St Corentin Cathedral in Quimper. (photo by me)

Brittany is known for great seafood and I plan on enjoying as much of it as possible while here. This night starts off with fresh sardines, perfect with mashed potatoes and cidre de pomme (apple cider) from the area.

Fresh sardines, mashed potatoes, and apple cider. (photo by me)

But, it is the chocolate mousse, served in large plops from a great big cast iron cauldron, that is the star of the evening. It is soooo good!

On the way back to the hotel, Saint Corentin is brilliant with the dark sky above it.

The next morning early, I walk to shops nearby.

Most aren’t open yet but I very much enjoy “tasting” with my eyes the treats to come as they are created.

I wonder what she is making. (photo by me)

Before I leave Pie Cottage, I read about the pastry called kouign amann, a Breton specialty that literally translates as butter cake and want to experience an authentic one. In a 2011 blogpost,

David Lebovitz

writes that to find a true kouign amann “you really need to go to Brittany” and that is exactly where I am. I round another corner to see Maison Georges Larnicol, the very bakery that David writes about and, in the window I see them…plus kouginettes, small versions of the buttery Breton pastry I am seeking. George Larnicol was born to the craft. His father was a pastry chef and his mother ran a shop in the Halles de Quimper where she sold the sweets prepared in the workshop and here I am in their very town!

As you may know, since 2006 I have been gluten-free but when last I was in France in 2011 I decide to throw caution to the wind and, on occasion—not everyday mind you, eat the freshly baked croissants and baguettes that tempt me. I am thrilled (and slightly puzzled) that I have no reaction. Now, on this trip, I decide to test out my theory that there must be something different about European flour.

I step inside the shop which can only be described as a temple dedicated to Breton baking, make a beeline to the baskets in the window and pick out three kouginettes…two traditional all butter and sugar and one with Cointreau for good measure. A few more blocks and I see several of my trekmates and, when I tell them about this local specialty, they want to try them, too, and I lead them to the shop1

A temple of butter, flour, and chocolate (photo by me)

Before leaving the hotel, I ask the desk clerks how exactly kouign amann is pronounced.2 One is from Brittany and the other from Paris and each pronounces it slightly differently. We all have a little chuckle as to whose is correct. I try them both ways and they give me the OK that I’m saying it correctly.

Then it’s a lift in a taxi to a trailhead to take our first steps from Audierne along the coast on GR 34, known as The Customs Officers' Path to Camaret-sur-Mer.