Château de Valmer’s Michelin-starred restaurant, La Palmeraie, offers a magical dinner on a terrace covered by towering old palms. As you enjoy an aperitif in the glow of the last light of sunset, the magic begins as you dine by candlelight. Six courses, one Michelin star, and a magical French Riviera setting.
Chef Thomas Pezeril, formerly of Helene Darroze in London, clearly has ambitions for a second star with his inventive tasting menu exploring the terroir of Provence. There is also a plant-based menu available, which is also six courses, and given the size of the kitchen garden here, promises to be no less of an experience than the standard menu.
All the dishes are named for sensations and sentiments rather than the actual ingredients. Ode to Spring, Thin Shell, Mediterranean Pincer, Fruity Velvet. There’s a charming element of mystery, and each dish lives up to the description, but if you need reassurance, the small print underneath the title tells you what each dish actually is.
Ode to Spring opens, and it is the dish that was most memorable for us. Vegetables, fruits, herbs and flowers from the garden, thirty-odd things meticulously arranged across a white plate, all either raw, grilled, or pickled, with wild strawberry, courgette flower, and violas nestled among them. There is literally nothing to hide behind on a plate like that. If the produce is not good, the dish does not work.
It was also, and this is the part I liked most, recognisably the same produce we had been eating down at the beach all week, just handled with far more precision and finesse.
Next came three courses of the sea. Thin Shell is shellfish under a wreath of courgette shaved into ribbons, and it’s the one we would order again.
Mediterranean Pincer is gnudi with crab and fresh peas in a deep shellfish broth, the richest thing on the menu and the course that surprised us most. Fruity Velvet brings together red mullet with the freshest basil from the garden.
The main is Pré-salé des Alpes, salt-marsh lamb with wild broccoli and octopus sliced thin and laid over the meat, which was an intriguing combination but one that actually worked, since octopus on lamb sounds like a mistake. The octopus goes soft and almost buttery against the meat and the two of them taste like they belong together, which I would never have believed reading the menu. It arrived after dark and it was the perfect dish to end on.
Dessert is Indulgent Red, red fennel and pastis, which reads like a savoury course and eats like the south of France in early summer.
It is a long, slow dinner but none of it feels like work. By the end you are in no hurry to be anywhere. Staying at the Château we didn’t have to be.
Note: Château de Valmer provided support for the reporting of this story.