However, few of us know much about the irrepressible person behind these remarkable places.
Now she tells her story in this engaging memoir, revealing what led to her success and the obstacles, both financial and personal, she had to overcome in achieving it.
Fleur grew up in Oamaru in the 1940s and '50s, often visiting her grandparents' farm just north of the Waitaki. Looking back, her home life, the food her family produced, its presentation and the hospitality prepared her for what she did later in life, she says.
Her love of heritage and her avid collecting of old crockery, cutlery and other household antiques, a characteristic of all her restaurants' ambience, date from when she was a schoolgirl.
Marriage to Jim Sullivan was a way to escape Oamaru, but instead she and her new husband ended up managing The Forks hotel in a remote part of the West Coast. She learnt to cook on the coal range and enjoyed the hard work, being hospitable and the West Coast characters. However, in the following years, further south on the coast and then in Westport, with three young children and an increasingly disaffected husband, she became depressed and lonely.
In 1965, the family moved to Alexandra, where she was known for her long, colourful skirts, velvet waistcoats and fuzzy blonde hair. She picked thyme for the herb factory in Clyde and fell in love with the historic town and the house and store that later became Olivers. She persuaded her parents to help with the purchase of Dunstan House across the road, and turned it, bit by bit, into an accommodation house.
In the mid-1960s few shared her enthusiasm for the history of Clyde and its wild, dry countryside. She tried to set up a Clyde promotion group but there was little interest, so she became a district councillor, aiming to make people aware of their heritage, so at least she might prevent it being bulldozed.
However, without the money to upgrade Dunstan House, she went to Invercargill to rejoin her husband, who had set up a business there. Their relationship fell apart and, without financial support, she reached rock bottom. However, with the help of friends, she slowly found confidence, moved to Queenstown and worked in several innovative restaurants, learning the trade and cooking.
She formed a relationship with John Braine, a young chef, and over a year and on a shoestring, they developed the old Naylor's general store in Clyde into what would become Olivers. Her vision was for a Provencal-style restaurant serving simple, seasonal, local food - and, later, local wine - that would awaken a romantic feeling in people. It was a struggle at first, especially with hostile locals who didn't understand what they were doing - such as the police officer who tried to close her down because he thought a BYO licence was illegal. Luckily, an important MP and his friends were dining there that night.
With Olivers' growing national reputation, Fleur developed the site into a lodge and courtyard with craft shops and a bakery, catering for films and holding events. She continued to promote Clyde and helped establish the annual Otago cavalcade.
When John Braine left, she struggled to find a suitable chef and, after 20 years, suffering from cancer, she sold Olivers and went to live in Moeraki.
As she recovered, foraging for wild food and watching the fishing boats unload their fish, she decided she would sell local seafood delicacies from a hawker's caravan on the foreshore. That expanded to become Fleurs Place. The struggles went on - with council permits, and the red-tape problems of getting fish straight off the boats and into the kitchen. But Fleur appears to thrive on problem-solving.
She now has a fish receiver's licence and her own fishing quotas, which local fishermen catch for her.
Then, a couple of years ago, the Oamaru Heritage Trust approached her about one of the grand historic buildings in Harbour St, and her vision for the Loan and Merc developed - communal eating at long wooden tables, with her trademark vintage crockery and cutlery and decor, extensive ploughman's type lunches and a large evening carvery. Gilbert Prevost, a chef who had worked for her at Olivers and Fleurs Place, returned from his gypsy life to manage it.
Now 72, she can't imagine ever retiring, but is pleased that two of her granddaughters are working with her.
Fleur's determination and vision, and her connection to heritage and landscape and the food it produces, add up to a remarkable story and a good read.
- Charmian Smith is an ODT feature writer.
