Brittany in two Mystery Novels

“The simple question of who had a material benefit after a murder case – everyone always wanted to deflect it of course – might have seemed old-fashioned, but it was still elementary. Who got something out of the death? And what, exactly? ‘Traditional’ motives for murder still ruled the world: envy, humiliations and hurts, revenge, jealousy and greed dominated all statistics by a wide margin.” (Murder on Brittany Shores by Jean-Luc Bannalec, p. 148)

Jean-Luc Bannalec’s fictional detective, Commissaire Georges Dupin, wasn’t very careful to show respect for his superiors. In fact, he’s a bit contemptuous. This trait makes him a very good subject for a long series of novels — but isn’t very good for his career. Although he was Parisian through-and-through, he was banished from the Paris police force and sent to a small town in Brittany. At least he finds the food there good, especially at his favorite spot, the Amiral:

“It was true he loved Breton cuisine and the Amiral had all of the delicious Breton specialities, but nothing to Dupin’s mind, absolutely nothing, could beat entrecôte with chips (the real national dish of the Grande Nation – Dupin thought they should be very proud of it). There was nothing like it. Nothing even close after a day like that. And red wine to wash it down, a deep red Languedoc. Rich, velvety and smooth.” (Death in Brittany, p. 97)

He also finds good food in other restaurants as he investigates a series of crimes. Sometimes he enjoys these meals alone, sometimes with his fellow policemen:

“Madame Mendu had been looking after them, feeding them regional specialities: rillettes (scallop rillettes were Dupin’s favourite), paté, Breton goat’s cheese, various types of mustard, baguettes and a bottle of red Faugères. Dupin sat down and ate with them.” (Death in Brittany, p. 154)

I read these two books a couple of years ago, and decided to read them again. I must admit that I didn’t remember the details of either plot, so I enjoyed the suspense as Dupin questions the witnesses and suspects in the matter of multiple murders, while evading the demands of his more politically-oriented superiors. The atmosphere of the fishing villages and small-town life in both books is delightfully portrayed. I think I’ll read more of this series. 

One more unbearably delicious description of a dish you can eat only if you are on the Breton coast:

“The fish stew – you could never say fish soup – smelt indescribable. Dupin recognised all of his favourite fish: angler fish, sea bass, red mullet, gilt head, pollack, cod, hake and sole, his favourite shellfish: praires, scallops, blue mussels, palourdes grises and even better – palourdes roses – along with langoustines of various sizes and crab. It was in fact a huge, deep soup bowl with an impressive mountain towering upwards. More hurriedly than he’d intended, he poured the sauce over the fish and the potatoes. And ate. He tasted the whole sea. Incredible – the fish, but especially the broth, a concentrate that had been reduced for hours and hours.” (Murder on Brittany Shores, p. 316)

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