Where Raymond Blanc eats on holiday
I have always said that food is the best healer. So when I smashed my leg in five places by falling down my stairs in March, I knew that I needed to find an hotel with a great restaurant where I could convalesce. Naturally, I thought that France would be the best antidote to melancholy and the Provençal spring sun the best provider of vitamin D.
I was looking for quiet luxury; good food that would be simultaneously hearty and elegant; a spa that would heal me, and a place with some character where I could spend time with my son, Oliver, who is an actor and my best friend.
Le Mas Candille, near Mougins, seemed to provide all this in the guise of a beautiful Relais & Châteaux hotel in vast grounds with one-Michelin-star cuisine. It is also close to Nice and Cannes, and a stone’s throw from Mougins and Grasse.
Once I’d negotiated getting off the TGV with my broken leg (strong arms lifted me and eased me into a wheelchair), we drove up to the hotel through a simple but dramatic valley of silver olive trees. When I saw the building housing the bedrooms, I felt a little apprehensive because it was so obviously new. But it turned out to have been landscaped intelligently: set into the slopes with swimming pools, private gardens, terraces and secret gardens.
Am I an easy customer? No. I know that having me as a guest is a test for any hotelier, but having to cope with a disabled me must seem an ordeal.
Not for the young team at Le Mas Candille. Some places, when you first enter them, make you feel estranged and separate. Not here. It is obviously a well-loved place; every person with whom I came into contact made me feel he or she was integral to the experience I was having as a guest.
In my magnificent suite, light poured into the room, enhancing the sense of space (there was a vast bathroom, too). As well as the finest cotton bedsheets, there was sensitive lighting, plugs in the right places and a huge terrace with wondrous views of Grasse, the world perfume capital.
A wheelchair was waiting to take me to the restaurant in the 18th-century Provençal house, which also has a wonderful view of Grasse from its terrace. Here the chef Serge Gouloumes plies his craft.
I was famished, and so was Oliver. Our warm welcome included taking my crutches and placing them nicely within reach — in a champagne bucket stand. It was mortifying because they weren’t even fashionable crutches like you would get in France — they were from the NHS, and every step I took made a distinct “clunk” sound.
The feast started: niçoise olives, tender radishes and savoury mini-pastries were devoured. Serge wanted to give us 20 courses, but we decided against this — were we to eat like this for six days I’d need two pairs of crutches. I started with petits-gris escargots, wrapped in herby rocket chlorophyll with new garlic purée, and mousseline of ratte potatoes, which was a triumph. This was followed by jasmine-steamed langoustines, mango salad and basil Provençal vegetables, showing mastery in associating two difficult flavours and textures. I then enjoyed local cheeses ripened in their own cellars. A duo of Valrhona chocolate desserts were silky and cool, crowning a glorious meal. While Oliver ate his way through asparagus, lamb and Grand Marnier soufflé, we matched our food with the white Abbaye de Lérins, St-Pierre, 2006 and then an exceptional local red, Ch. Simone 2006, AOC Palette Rouge.
It was bliss. There was torture involved in my stay, though, and it came from my French physiotherapist. You have to have broken a limb to appreciate the painful journeys and small humiliations, such as having to go up and down stairs on your bum. Every night, I would go to the spa for shiatsu or for relaxing massages, which were wonderful.
A week of massage and good food — Serge took us on a culinary tour of his native Provence, inspired by the flavours and textures of spring — and I’ve never felt better. Now I’m back at home in England and my doctor tells me that my bones have mended 60-70 per cent faster than a normal man of my age. It’s almost a miracle. Like I said — good food is a great healer.
Raymond Blanc stayed at Le Mas Candille (00 33 492 28 43 43, lemascandille.com) which has double rooms from €295. A six-course Discovery Menu without wine costs €80pp.
WHERE RAYMOND EATS IN FRANCE
L’Oasis, La Napoule Stéphane Raimbault, inspired by travel in Japan, offers one of Provence’s best culinary experiences. Details: Rue Jean Honore Carle, 00 33 4 93 49 95 52, oasis-raimbault.com Nine courses €180
L’Ondine, Cannes On a beautiful beach, this restaurant serves fish caught that morning. Details: Boulevard de la Croisette, 00 33 4 93 94 23 15. Mains €19-€40
Le Resto des Arts, Mougins The restaurant where chef Serge Gouloumes, of Le Mas Candille, dines after he has finished his service. Details: 00 33 4 93 75 60 03. Menus €22-€25
Les Bacchanales, Vence Simple cuisine using quality produce from Vence’s small-scale producers. Details: 247 avenue de Provence, 00 33 4 93 24 19 19, lesbacchanales.com Three courses €35
Le Clos St Pierre, Rouret The chef changes the menu here every day after he has returned from market. Details: 5 place de l’Elise 00 33 4 93 77 39 18, hotel-du-clos.com Menus €31-€54
Bistro d’Antoine, Old Nice The bistro you wish was omnipresent in France. Details: 27 rue de la Prefecture, 00 33 493 85 39 57. Mains from €10
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