Lunch at Hôtel du Couvent Nice
On dirait le Sud. But make it eternal and timeless.
The singer Nino Ferrer captured, like few others, in his iconic song to Le Sud, that feeling one can only truly live — not be told: a mix of leisure, nonchalance and that indispensable gallantry with which one takes an aperitif on a terrace.
Life on the French Riviera is a trademark in itself, impossible to imitate.
Hôtel du Couvent translates this spirit through its centuries-old renovated monastery, wrapped in a palette of colors that are not only Instagram-worthy from every angle but also rejuvenating and a source of wellness for all the senses.
It is no wonder everyone is talking about it on the Côte d’Azur, while at the same time it cultivates — faithful to its historic cloister — that mystery and that delicious art of silence, where it is the architecture, the interior design, the philosophy of the restaurant and bar, and above all its knowledgeable staff who do the talking.
The South of France offers the smile of someone spoiled by nature, by those looping rays of sunlight — and it was precisely this that first foretold for us an authentic, eco-sustainable experience with the highest gastronomic standards, where local products shine in contemporary creations without any trace of déjà vu.
The Atmosphere – Interiors that invite retreat without forgetting pleasure
“Here, you are not in a place. You are in a mood — timeless, suspended in time.”
No, this is not a quote from Woody Allen — it was what our table neighbors, architects, confided to us. It would not surprise us to discover someday that the director of masterpieces like Annie Hall might immerse us in his unique universe within the sunlit courtyards and arcades of Hôtel du Couvent.
It is striking how the spiritual and religious background, like a healing infusion, has seeped into every vivid yellow, every corner of dolce vita, every tree that invites to retreat. If you are seeking a place to find peace in silence, without renouncing the pleasures of the senses, you need only cross through old Nice and enter this garden of delights.
The Table – Dualities that nurture body and spirit
A menu can be as instructive as a book: we learn with it and from it. And what a Provençal lesson it was.
We began with barbajuans, delicious fried pastries filled with ricotta, chard, and spinach — the proximity to Italy, just half an hour away by train, was undeniable. A squid salad brought us closer to the bustling world of Nice’s fishermen, charismatic characters with captivating tales.
We loved the contrast between clamor and silence, and for this the hotel’s own garden presented us with glorious-textured green asparagus, joined by artichokes and flashes of freshness that only local fishing can deliver. A green pea tart called for the health and generosity one expects from traditional Provençal grandmothers’ cooking, full of character and grace.
The main courses distilled to perfection the “garden-wellness” spirit with that refinement the world envies the French Riviera for: fresh capellini with sage, the garden’s essence through herbs grown just steps from our table. We delighted in white asparagus paired with austere wheat, which transported us into a Provençal tableau painted by Cézanne or Matisse.
The smoked trout from Cians with spring vegetables was unforgettable, as was the luxuriously raised Terre de Toine chicken with saffron and green asparagus. The Mediterranean diet reached its peak with a leg of lamb and chard. No wonder the grandparents of this region live so long.
It is precisely the years and the sense of perenniality that captivate here, a place that reveals itself as both simple and sophisticated at once.
Desserts reflect this duality: frozen lemon, typical of the South of France, playful and traditional; a nostalgic yet hedonistic rice pudding, but not so classic — this one had a touch of citrus caramel, elevating it to another category. The baba au rhum reminded us there is always time for festivity — and oh so French.
Etched in our memory will be the strawberries with brown sugar, with a flavor only the gentle Mediterranean climate can guarantee — by far the best we have tasted in Europe. The strawberry tart variations confirmed what those Provençal grandmothers, or perhaps the nuns of the cloister, surely know: the secret to aging serenely lies in enjoying what we already have close at hand.
