Between the American Film Festival in September, a year’s worth of high-profile equestrian events, and a couple of very large, loud casinos, the seaside city of Deauville has been a scene since before your grandparents were born.
But the hotel offerings hadn’t met the moment for decades, with the most prominent five-stars having grown mumsy and long in the tooth. Until this summer, the best option for a luxurious stay was a half-hour away, possibly longer, depending on traffic, at the gorgeous Ferme Saint Siméon, in Honfleur.
But now there is the Maison Douce Époque, in the upscale suburb of Benerville-sur-Mer, about 10 minutes by taxi from the Trouville-Deauville train station. Perched on a cliff overlooking Deauville’s Hippodrome and comprising a former manor house and its stables, the hotel, in its stillness and simplicity, feels much further removed.
The house was built in 1909 by Henri Goury, whose client Paul Gallimard had a place next door that had already put Benerville on the map socially. Gallimard’s son Gaston would go on to publish Marcel Proust, André Gide, Jean-Paul Sartre, and a passel of other heavyweights, and Proust was one of many who would pop into town when he wasn’t in Cabourg. Auguste Renoir was another, and the writer Jacques Rivière and his paramour Yvonne, who would become Gaston’s wife.
Not too many years after its construction, the house was sold to the ex-wife of François Coty. It was requisitioned by the Nazis during the war, given its excellent positioning for a lookout.
It wasn’t until 2003 that someone had the bright idea to turn the place into a bed-and-breakfast. This summer, a much posher, five-star iteration under new ownership was unveiled.
The exterior of the house remains untouched, but inside, the worst of the cutesy local hospitality codes have been abandoned: not a square inch of toile de Jouy, nautical kitsch, or wall-to-wall carpet. Light and air sweep through massive windows, bouncing off pale-wood floors. Contemporary furniture in muted sorbet tones fills spacious public areas, which include a game room, cocktail lounge, and the restaurant Le Romanesque.
Outside, a heated pool, tennis court, and small spa make up the rest of the amusements. Everything is jewel-box-size, but with only 14 rooms and suites over almost nine acres of grounds, even at full capacity, as it was all summer, the place doesn’t feel overrun.
Rooms are spacious but restrained in décor; wainscoting, stoneware tiles, and the odd vintage curio warm things up while still letting your eyes breathe. They’re big enough to sprawl out in, and most have lovely sea views.
Chef Kévin Legoy put in time at the Ritz Paris and the Ferme Saint Siméon before stepping up to run the kitchen here. His contemporary menu, which changes every three weeks, is beautifully executed. On our visit, oysters came with crushed ice and a gin-and-tonic foam; seared langoustine was paired with Parma ham and melon sorbet; and lobster came two ways, in a beignet with celery root and pastis cream, and minced under a mountain of foamed bisque. There is room for only 28 covers, and kids under 14 aren’t permitted. Give peace a chance.
The writer was a guest at Maison Douce Époque, where room rates begin at $350 per night in high season
Alexandra Marshall is a Writer at Large at AIR MAIL and a contributor to W, The Wall Street Journal, Vogue, and Travel + Leisure. She chronicles her relocation to Le Perche in the newsletter An American Who Fled Paris
