How Louis ended up in Bray, and why he never left.
Louis grew up between the family kitchen and a bilig, the cast iron griddle Bretons have used for centuries to cook galettes. His grandmother, his mother, his aunts, each had her own way of making a crêpe. Sunday afternoons, the whole house would gather round it. That is where Chez Louis really begins.
After years cooking across France and a few detours through Europe, Louis landed in Ireland almost by accident, and stayed. Bray reminded him of a French seaside town: the sea nearby, the village feel, people stopping by for a chat. Something was missing here, he thought. A thread between the two places. So he started weaving it, one galette at a time.
Buckwheat flour. Water. Salt. Nothing else, except patience. The batter rests overnight. The bilig heats to 250 degrees. A thin layer, spread with a wooden rozell. Ninety seconds, the edges turn golden, the surface crackles. That is all. Except doing it properly takes years.
Bray gave me a second home. The galettes are just my way of saying thanks.
Evenings, galettes, good people. The everyday at Chez Louis.
