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FRANCE SAINT TROPEZ CHÂTEAU DE LA MESSARDIÈRE
The keep of the castle was built in the Nineteenth Century in the Gothic manner by the Comte de la Messardière. (The family’s association with the building continues, for his great grand-daughter, Victoire, is a talented artist and many of her paintings adorn the rooms and corridors of the hotel.) Around this central block are modern structures, designed to remind us of the Italian Renaissance – with their Florentine columns, Venetian arches and Genoese columns. This meeting of styles is successful. Indeed, as I turned off the route Tahiti and guided the Royce between the wrought iron gates and up the drive through the 25 acres of gardens, I felt I was purring up towards a place of real welcome. In the evening the dining room was both comfortable and ‘homely’. I suppose the latter quality came from the warm colours and the brown suits of the staff. The tablecloth was white, the glassware was by Zwiesel and I – after a trip into town, using the hotel’s shuttle ‘bus – had the appetite to do justice to the interesting and complex cuisine of chef Patrick Cuissard. He offers two set menus, at 68 euros and 96 euros. If you choose four courses from the carte, as I did, expect to pay round 120 euros. There are about 350 offerings on the list of sommelier Laurent Naudot, ranging in price from a local white at 33ε to 1959 Yquem at 3,981ε and 1996 Pétrus at 3,946ε. 18 wines are served by the glass, including a German Riesling at 10ε. The following bottles caught my eye: 2005 Grange des Pères (153ε), 1999 Haut Brion (550ε), 1995 Palmer (473ε), 2004 Montracht, Leflaive (740ε) and 1996 La Tâche (2,106ε). I drank two wines from Provence. My white was minerally, with exotic fruit (Dom. Gavoty, 2008 - 50ε), and my red was tannic and spicy (Ch. de Cabran, 2006 - 50ε).
During my stay I ventured once again onto the tourist boat. To my surprise, the guide was the same sun-tanned gentleman, and his patter was completely unchanged. Clearly, the Riviera, promotes longevity of all sorts. The words of Sam Goldwyn came to mind – “I was having déjà vu all over again.”At the same point in the expedition, inevitably, the Château de la Messardière was pointed out. “It is now a luxury hotel. Very rich people stay there.” I smiled. “And what lucky people they are,” I murmured quietly to myself.
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ADDRESSES **** SEPTEMBER, 2010 - The sad news has been received of the death of Mr Gerald Hardy. The Resident Manager of the hotel is now Mr Alexandre Durand-Viel. The Chef is now Mr Christian Farenasso. CHÂTEAU DE LA MESSARDIÈRE
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© Francis Bown 2003
On my first visit to St Tropez, many years ago, I went for a ride on one of the small boats which take tourists to stare at the homes of the rich and famous. (I am an eager patron of such touristic enterprises, and frequently seek out the sightseeing ‘train’ when I am in a new town. The sillier it looks and the more bells its driver rings as he steers his crocodile around the streets, the more I like it.) Since I was (and remain) largely ignorant of popular culture, many of the names of the folk who were said to own the waterside villas – names, I supposed, of popular singers and film stars, for they caused my fellow passengers to gasp and sigh – meant nothing to me. I was intrigued, however, by what appeared to be a fairytale castle on top of one the hills overlooking the Bay of St Tropez. Eventually, the sun-tanned commentator directed the attention of his audience to the object of my interest. “At the top of the hill,” he declared, “you can see the Château de la Messardière. It is now a luxury hotel. Very rich people stay there.”
Now, having myself stayed at this wonderful place on several occasions, I can add a little flesh to those bare bones. In fact, from the time of my first encounter with the hotel, I have regarded the Château de la Messardière as not only one of the best hotels in St Tropez, as not only one of the best hotels in France, but also as one of the best hotels in Europe. My most recent visit confirmed the accuracy of this initial judgement.
And so I was. The General Manager, Gerald Hardy, is a highly cultured man. His hotel is the scene of various art exhibitions each season, and these events add to the property’s atmosphere of charm and sophistication. So, too, does the large collection of Persian rugs. I do like my two-tone Cleverley shoes to be cosseted when they are on the French Riviera by Persian rugs.
My suite contained a fine example, in red and gold, on top of the terra cotta floor tiles. Around the rug were two sofas and two armchairs. This was in apartment number 702, one of the stylish Gulf Suites (750-1,240 euros a night for two, according to season, breakfast extra). Reached by a corridor hall, this spacious accommodation was entirely to my taste. One wall of the sitting room was of plate glass. Sliding part of it back, I was able to go onto my own terrace, on which were two recliners, a table and four chairs. And whether I was outside with an aperitif or inside with a pot of tea, there was the lovely view of the Bay of St Tropez (pictured). Another sliding door revealed the bedroom and then an archway led to two walk-in wardrobes (with a private safe) and then to the bathroom. This last was well-lit by a dozen spotlights, and contained two wash basins, a big tub, a separate shower, a separate loo, toiletries by L’Occitane and that item which always makes me feel a pang of guilt – a pair of scales.
In the bedroom was a machine for the playing of cds and dvds. I have been asked what music I take with me on my travels. The answer is predictable: Mozart, Elgar, Langlais, Duruflé and the Gershwins. On this occasion, from George and Ira’s canon, I had Porgy and Bess – so I was able, as I dozed of an afternoon, to drift away to the words, “Summertime and the livin’ is easy…” And easy, indeed, it was in these wonderful surroundings.
I should say a few words about the high level of service I enjoyed at the Messardière. Let me give you three examples. A lady from the Housekeeping department came and, with much good humour, put no fewer than four softeners on my bed to ensure my comfort. Daniel Aubert, the excellent Restaurant Manager, went to pains to make sure that not only was a more supportive chair brought to my breakfast table each morning (pour mon dos mal), but also that a sun shade was manoeuvred to protect my delicate complexion from the sun . And, finally, when I left my own back cushion at a restaurant in town after dinner one evening, a member of the Messardière’s staff went and retrieved it for me the next morning. If I had been giving out gold stars, I would have run out of them long before I left.
Breakfast (32 euros each) is a particular delight here. On the restaurant terrace I sat, looking over the pine trees to the distant beaches of Pampelone and the azure sea and sipping my coffee from a cup of white porcelain made by Bernardaud. Everything on the buffet was so good, that I would have been content with rolls and butter, but – ever mindful of my obligations to you, dear reader – I forced myself to try the ham, the cheese, the fruit salad, the croissants, the marmalade and the doughnuts. I do not normally eat doughnuts at any time, but these were just too tempting.
I began with Autumnal vegetables and seasonal fruits. This was an unusual combination, including creamed pumpkin, ginger, apple, pear, figs and pine nut oil. And there was another medley of flavours to follow. The duck foie gras was mi-cuit, and served with Sarawak pepper jelly, fig and orange marmalade and a grape surrounded by white chocolate. This subtle and satisfying dish was the highlight of the meal. Roasted saddle of doe was rather dominated by the ham fat in which it had been cooked (bacon is always such a bully), but I liked the open ravoli with braised cabbage which came with it. To conclude, I chose a carefully made tartelette soufflé of chestnuts with a glass of creamy dark chocolate.
