Every Saturday morning, before the sun has even risen, whether it's rainy, windy or freezing, whether the sky is clear or thick with fog, I take the road to Rennes. My destination is Lices market, where duty and pleasure come together. Duty because this is where I touch, sniff and inspect all the vegetables and fruit that you find at our table, without ever entrusting this task to anyone: vegetables and fruit, but also herbs, poultry, dairy products and even flowers for the bouquets. As a child I came to this market with my grandmother, then later with Jane; together we felt we were in a kingdom of succulent discoveries and contacts. Since the, all my suppliers have become friends who share the same values.

I arrive around six-thirty in the morning, when many displays are still being set up. I stride around the market, take in the stalls that are filling up, rummage, make a few orders, come back, chew, weigh, inhale, bring all my senses to life. I want to be the first to choose and choose the best. This early morning, which is ideal for appreciating real flavours, to bite into a mint leaf, a redcurrant, a cherry tomato, a rhubarb stalk, is the week's privileged moment. Quality is hard-earned, and they all know that I'm the last link in the chain.

Aside from the circle of regulars whom I count on every week, the market always brings surprises. In the square, in the spring, I look for the first redcurrants, the best of the green peas. What a delight to find them at the end of an aisle, where I wasn't expecting them! I look at them and my imagination transports me to my kitchen: I already know how I'll use them. The region's grandmothers, my real friends who know what I want, supply me with a bunch of mint, salad burnett, lemon balm, a punnet of strawberries, a bouquet of roses. Price doesn't count, only quality. Tomorrow, at the table, this rhubarb from an Argoat garden, perfumed with a hint of vanilla, will thrill the palate of a gourmand, these raspberries poached in an angelica syrup will complement the cheeses of Ille-et- Vilaine...

One day in 1992, I invited all the producers - those of the sea, bay and land - to come and discover my houses. I always ask more of them to allow me to create successful recipes and we always talk it over. Still at the market, there is Yves Bocel and his sons, who have market gardens in Pacé near Rennes. They tempt me with thin leeks, onions, four-season lettuce, cherry tomatoes, turnips, carrots grown in sand, very round lamb's lettuce, but also the courgettes and aubergines I love to cook so much in the summer. This is also where I find a strange melon, the "petit gris rennais", which never looks ripe because of its slate grey colour but has an exquisite flavour. I serve it with warm oysters with Port vinegar.

At the Simmoneaux farm, near Corps-Nuds, the apple tree is king, allowing Chantal to produce apple juice and cider vinegar which is one of the best vinegars I've tasted. Then there is Annie Bertin, who prepares the herbs and aromatic plants that are so essential to my cooking. I brought her some back from my travels in Southeast Asia so that she could plant them. She grows Chinese cabbage, long green beans that grow mainly on Reunion Island, sweet potatoes and marsh herbs.