Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons is, quite simply, the OG. It didn’t just break the mould – it created a new one. Four decades on, it’s still heralded as the ultimate fine-dining experience.
The parameters? First, grow a decent proportion of your produce onsite (100% organically, natch); second, serve exceptional cuisine that balances tradition with innovation; and third, offer such an extraordinary experience that staying the night is the only way to properly appreciate it. Full. Package.
Le Manoir has also been the proving ground for some of the world’s greatest chefs: Heston Blumenthal, Marco Pierre White, Michael Caines, Éric Chavot… the list goes on to include a further 30 Michelin-starred chefs.
To appreciate the significance of Le Manoir, you have to understand its history, so allow me briefly to transport you back in time. (Queue flashback sequence.)
As a boy growing up in post-war France, Raymond Blanc spent countless hours in the garden alongside his father, cultivating vegetables to help feed the family. For his tenth birthday, his old man gifted him a hand-drawn treasure map, marking the best local spots for foraging, fishing, and hunting. This simple yet profound gesture sparked a lifelong passion for nature (and its bounty), leading young Raymond on adventures through the rivers and woodlands.
These early explorations shaped his respect for seasonal ingredients, a foundation that would go on to define his career, not to mention his flagship restaurant. Little did his father know, he had planted the seed for a future culinary icon – one of the few chefs to be honoured with both an OBE from Britain and the prestigious Chevalier in the Ordre national de la Légion d’Honneur from France.
Chef-patron Raymond Blanc
Le Manoir's stunning gardens
Raymond was actually first drawn to service rather than the kitchen. He was walking past the Michelin-starred Le Palais de la Bière in Besançon when a scene through the window stopped him in his tracks. In a pool of golden light, waiters in elegant burgundy jackets with gleaming epaulettes were flambéing crêpes Suzette with theatrical precision. To Raymond, it was nothing short of extraordinary. In that moment, the course of his life was set.
He worked his way up from floor cleaner to pot washer to head waiter, but a heated dispute with the head chef – resulting in a literal broken jaw and a metaphorical bruised ego – led him to uproot to the UK in 1972. France’s loss was Britain’s gain. It was here that he landed his first job as a chef, in an Oxfordshire pub restaurant called The Rose Revived.
Despite having no formal kitchen experience, Blanc’s natural talent quickly became apparent. Within five years, his growing reputation allowed him to open Les Quat’ Saisons, the precursor to Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons as we know it today. Another five years on, he took an ambitious leap, moving his restaurant to a grand Elizabethan manor house. Within just one year of opening, it was crowned Egon Ronay Restaurant of the Year – a testament to the restaurant’s guiding philosophy: “The good does not interest us. The sublime does.”
Today, Le Manoir stands alone as the only country house hotel in the UK to have retained two Michelin stars for an incredible 40 years. The level of patience, tenacity, and sheer determination required to maintain such excellence for four decades? It’s nothing short of mind-boggling.
Fading back to the present – and pulling up to Le Manoir aux Quat'Saisons – the experience begins before you even open your car door. Mainly because someone else comes out of the house to open it for you. Another member of staff will kindly take your luggage, while you’re checked in; before the first form is signed or card details taken, a glass of vintage Veuve Clicquot is in your hand. It’s a promising start.
There are 32 rooms in total, with ten in the manor and 22 in the converted stables – each one taking inspiration from Blanc’s travels. We were in the stable block, which somewhat symbolically has real grape vines trailed along its ceiling.
Le Manoir’s architecture is impressive enough, but it’s the nature around it that elevates it to the ‘pastoral idyll’ leagues, incorporating 27 acres of gardens – herb, vegetable, and Japanese tea – and an orchard set within a wild flower meadow planted with blooms for every season.
Naturally the gardens offer up the most local source of produce you could ask for. But they’re also there to add to your overall experience. In your bedroom, scan the code on your welcome pack, grab the fitness set from your wardrobe, find a peaceful spot in the garden and enjoy pilates, yoga or body conditioning exercise routines from fitness expert Jo Tuffrey. (If that’s your thing.)
Returning to the room, it’s time to begin embracing the more indulgent side of Le Manoir’s hospitality: a freshly baked drizzle cake. There are even cardboard carriers in your wardrobe so you can take home anything you don’t polish off.
Each of the rooms has its own vibe – the decor inspired by Raymond's travels. Our room was framed by beautiful exposed stone work, wooden beams and vaulted ceilings from the original stables. The walk-in wardrobe was bigger than our first flat and the bed so large it practically covered two postcodes. The latter comes with a ‘pillow menu’ almost as long as the restaurant’s tasting menu: organic wool; temperature regulating; vegan natural; bamboo; memory foam; lavender scented.
The staff will build you a fire should you so wish, but don’t nap for too long, as the main event is yet to come.
To gain two Michelin stars in your first year of opening is a rarity – to retain them for the following four decades is practically unheard of. So what does it take?
A refined yet welcoming service that deftly strikes the balance between formality and friendliness; it is somehow telepathic in predicting your needs. A wine offering that matches the menu dextrously, delivering a mix of classics and contemporaries that enhance every bite. And finally, of course, there’s the small matter of the food.
One of those Michelin-starred chefs I mentioned earlier is Luke Selby. He started his career as a commis chef at Le Manoir in 2009 under the mentorship of Raymond Blanc – and went on to run the superb Evelyn’s Table in Soho. In 2023, he was invited back to Le Manoir by Raymond to take over as executive chef.
Raymond Blanc and Luke Selby
Chris Terry
Created in partnership with chef-patron Raymond, the resulting menu is a tour de force.
A trio of snacks kicks off proceedings – a chance for the chefs to flex their culinary muscles. (They’ve clearly been working out.)
First is a slice of sushi-grade tuna set on a feather-thin layer of seaweed; “Delightful,” nods my wife in appreciation. Next, a crisp nest hosts Lake District beef tartare topped with oscietra caviar: “To die for,” is her next response. The final is a delicate sweet beetroot meringue sandwich that houses a rich, sour goat's cheese: “I might cry.”
And we hadn’t even had the bread yet. Like the pillows, there are six different types to choose from, but I urge you to plump for the beer and potato bread – this roll of malty heaven makes you wonder why all bread is not made with beer and potato.
There is a la carte available, but it would almost be offensive not to succumb to the tasting menu. Its foundation is in proper, traditional French classics, but its execution is pure elevation. Take the chicken liver parfait: so far, so 1980s, right? Not when served on a bed of pear gelée so intense it’s as if they’ve compressed the flavour of a thousand pears into one spoonful.
Next is a salmon that plays centre stage to a dance between sweet buttermilk granita and sour calamansi gel. It was my dish of the day.
Risotto with wild mushrooms comes with local truffle shaved on top table side, followed by a Devonshire Creedy Carver duck, that includes the ingenious addition of a miniature maple and ginger biscuit. Forget duck and waffle; duck and biscuit is the way forward.
A well-paced and structured menu means there’s plenty of room for dessert. Well, desserts. A pear almondine is heavenly alongside candied ginger and a caramel croustillant. While Le Caco et le Café is what would happen if you asked the Museum of Modern Art to design a tiramisu.
When you’re finally ready to head back to the room, the turndown service will help finish your evening with Le Manoir’s trademark attention to detail. Spectacles left beside your bed? There will now be a leather pochette with a microfibre cloth for cleaning them. Two teddy bears dressed in embroidered chef’s whites and hats sit patiently awaiting for you to take them to their new home.
Even as you head home the next day, you’ll be furnished with a ‘Bon Voyage’ bag; bottled mineral water and freshly made biscuits from the kitchen are joined by a sachet of wild flowers to distribute around your own garden or park – so you can bring a little slice of Le Manoir home with you. (Along with the slice of drizzle cake, assuming your willpower holds out.)
This thoughtful parting gesture is indicative of the whole stay – and the reason it probably won’t be your last. Luke Selby is not the only person who will be returning to Le Manoir.
Paul Wilkinson
Prices start at £930 B&B based on two people sharing a deluxe bedroom. See more at belmond.com
