They say you should never go back. But when it comes to Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons, that’s complete nonsense. My last visit was in 2013, and the memory has lingered like a fine old claret. So, in the spirit of collecting experiences rather than possessions, we returned. Just in time too, with Le Manoir soon closing for a long refurbishment. If you’re going to say goodbye (for now), make it a grand farewell. Spoiler: it was.

A Grand Arrival (With a Hint of Hogwarts)

There are entrances, and then there’s this. By day, the approach is pure Cotswolds fairytale , manicured gardens, sculpted hedges, and whimsical yellow wire hares dancing on the lawn. But by night? The path twinkles with a trail of fairy lights so enchanting it could’ve been dreamt up by Spielberg and lit by Pixar. We half-expected Raymond Blanc to leap out from behind a boxwood with a wand and a soufflé, but instead received a welcome glass on his behalf of excellent Hundred Hills English Sparkling Wine.

Warm Fires and Warmer Welcomes

Inside, the lounge greeted us like an old friend, a fireplace gently crackling, deep sofas beckoning, and a perfectly balanced bouquet of flowers perched beside the flames. It’s the sort of place where even your coat seems to sigh with relief. The team welcomed us with just the right mix of polish and warmth, the kind that reassures you you’re in excellent hands — but you can still ask where the loos are without whispering.

A Timely Pilgrimage

With Le Manoir about to go dark for over a year (cue dramatic gasp), this wasn’t just a dinner, it was a moment. Made all the more special as it was shared with Alison, my wonderful wine wife whose own cooking is one to reckon with, and a late birthday treat for yours truly. A final flourish from the iconic kitchen long overseen by Raymond Blanc as chef patron before its big reset and he steps down. There was a touch of nostalgia in the air, mixed with reverence. Like dining at the theatre on closing night, knowing every plate was crafted with a little extra love.

The Room: Rustic Chic With a Wink

Our room was every inch the country house fantasy, heavy beams, plush bedding, and a welcome treat under glass that whispered: you deserve this. And we did. Especially when we popped the cork on a bottle of Hundred Hills 2020 Preamble No.2, a homegrown sparkling wine from Oxfordshire that confidently strolled into the ring with the best of Champagne and said, “Fancy a dance?” Crisp, precise, with a bright citrus zip and subtle autolytic depth. We might’ve cheered.

The Tasting Menu: A Love Letter to Winter

Here’s what we tucked into (and we mean tucked):

• L’Oignon – French onion soup with black garlic and aged Comté. Deep, soulful, like a hug from a very well-dressed farmer.
• Le Saumon – Confit of Loch Duart salmon, yuzu and buttermilk. Clean as a winter sunrise, kissed with citrus.
• Le Foie de Canard Rôti – Pan-roasted duck liver with apple, tamarind and Calvados. Rich, silky, and just a little bit cheeky.
• Le Risotto – Wild mushroom and winter truffle. Utterly indulgent, with truffle theatrics that made us grin like truffle pigs.
• Le Homard – Raviolo of Cornish lobster with fennel, calamansi, lemongrass and a ginger bisque. Delicate, fragrant, and beautifully balanced.
• Le Chevreuil – Aynhoe Park venison, celeriac, beetroot and chocolate. The dish of the night. A masterclass in balance: earthy, sweet, savoury, seductive.
• La Poire – Pear almondine, candied ginger and caramel croustillant. Light, elegant, and just sweet enough.
• Le Café et le Cacao – Tiramisu flavours with cocoa cream, cardamom, and coffee ice cream. Complex and comforting.
• Les Petits Fours – Teas, coffees, and dainty treats to ease you back into the real world.

Each course was exquisitely timed, never rushed, never idle. The Raymond Blanc signature? Elegant restraint. Nothing screamed for attention — it simply whispered, lingered, and made you want more.

The Wines: Big Characters, Brilliant Pairings

La Mondotte 2008 (from my own cellar, because why not?): Saint-Émilion at its best. Still gloriously alive. Blackberries, plum, a touch of graphite and cocoa. With time, it unfurled cedar, tobacco, silky tannins, and a long, mineral finish that strutted alongside the venison like it owned the plate. A wine that isn’t just enjoyed, it performs.

Rancy 1992: A surprise from the sommelier, oxidative, nutty, with dried fruits, caramel, and savoury intrigue. Like drinking a conversation between an old leather armchair and a fruitcake soaked in nostalgia. It was the perfect finale.

Marco, Lukas, and the Art of Seamless Service

Service at Le Manoir goes beyond the usual, it’s theatre. With timing that would make a Swiss watch blush, Marco guided us through dinner with charm and precision. Lukas and his wine team, handled our Mondotte like it was a newborn baby and poured with reverence. There’s a real joy in being looked after by people who genuinely care.

One Last Toast (Until Next Time)

Le Manoir remains, quite simply, iconic. A two-Michelin-starred institution under the careful eye of Raymond Blanc, it has long been a beacon of culinary artistry. Not because it shouts, but because it listens — to ingredients, to seasons, to guests. As the lights dim at the end of December for an 18-month refurbishment under the steady stewardship of the Belmond Hotel Group, it’s going out on a high. If anyone’s going to give this beloved manor a makeover, it’s the Belmond team — careful, creative, and ready to write the next chapter. Our evening was elegant, heartfelt, and completely unforgettable.

Sometimes, going back is the best thing you can do.