“We are innkeepers. » In the space of a nearly three-hour feast at La Villa Madie, the phrase comes back like a mantra in the mouths of the owner of the place, Dimitri Droisneau, his wife Marielle, who watches over the rooms, the waiter, the sommelier and even the young man in charge of the gigantic cheese platter. A sentence that could sound like a simple slogan, but which says a lot about the real and rare qualities that we discover in this gastronomic haven of Cassis: humility, loyalty, a sense of listening. For many journalists, the three stars awarded to this establishment with little media coverage (although it has had two stars since 2014) seemed to have fallen from the sky. “Some people said to me: ‘We didn’t see you coming!’ », has fun today the forties. Customers weren’t surprised.
Facing Cap Canaille
It was in 2013 that Dimitri and Marielle decided to take over La Villa Madie, fascinated by the beauty of this building as vast as a ship (150 seats) whose long terrace, in the shade of umbrella pines, overlooks the Mediterranean. Here, the sea whets all the senses. The iodized scent of the air gently caresses the nostrils. On the tiny public beach of the Anse de Corton, below, the soothing sonata of the waves plays, swinging their manes of foam on the rocks. The gaze tries in vain to embrace the blue immensity, just broken by Cap Canaille and its red cliffs, like a large slice of caramelized cake that would crumble into the sea.
“The place is exceptional, but if we had bet everything on that, we would only operate on sunny days, believes Dimitri Droisneau. People had to come for our cuisine, not for the view. » Mission accomplished. When the couple arrived, the one-star restaurant was serving 17,000 customers a year. The establishment receives nearly 40,000 today.
Despite the build of a karateka and bubbling energy that he sometimes struggles to channel, Droisneau plays the role of erasure
Contrary to the star chefs who display their strengths throughout Instagram posts, Dimitri has made himself very small in Cassis. You can feel the modesty ingrained in this son of a house painter and a childcare mother who had to save up for an evening at the restaurant. Despite the stature of a karateka (he also practices cycling, rugby, paddleboarding, diving, etc.) and a bubbling energy that he sometimes struggles to channel, Droisneau plays with self-effacement. The chef delegates his (late) communication on social networks, explains that he is not part of the microcosm of gastronomy, admits to being the least qualified in his establishment (he does not have his baccalaureate) and sighs in embarrassment when the photographer has to draw his portrait.
He also keeps a low profile in the kitchen. “We have to stop pulling out the muscles”, judges the chef, who four years ago set up a brasserie – the Brasserie du Corton – on the first floor of his restaurant, where endless treats (appetizers, starters, main courses, desserts, etc.) are savored for lunch at 39 euros the menu. “We also wanted simple dishes, he throws. Noise, smells of grilled meats, tapenades, brandade, beef tartare with oysters, sautéed octopus and Sôcisse de Marseille [une marque phocéenne agrémentée de fenouil et badiane]. »
Plates with your feet in the water
For his gourmet restaurant, he bets on a readable cuisine, and always less than five ingredients per recipe. He has adopted the motto of one of the chefs who trained him, Bernard Pacaud (three stars in the Parisian establishment l’Ambroisie): “The trappings are to hide clumsiness. » His dishes have his feet in the water: every day, he improvises what he calls his “ecosystems”, starters bringing together small fish, shellfish and crustaceans from nearby shores. Depending on the catch of the day, a lobster can go very well with live fish, sea urchins or Camargue shellfish. As a (distant) homage to the potato salad with herring that his mother prepared for him, he offers a sardine with lemon thyme and bonito jelly: all the fish is eaten from the flesh to the bones, fried, which crisp under the tooth. One of his most masterful dishes is a “simple” Carabinero prawn, currant red, worked with beetroot and kumquat, which harmoniously balances salinity, acidity and iodized flavors.
This Norman, a native of Évreux, has taken root in this corner of the Mediterranean. Co-president of the local rugby club, associated with La Villa Madie with a Cassidain, Jean Bourdillon, he was adopted by his neighbors who sometimes come to the restaurant to drop off fava beans, artichokes or a few fresh eggs. He himself has a vegetable garden of more than 3,000 square meters, truffle fields, olive trees. He is in the process of producing his own wine, and has already created, in partnership with the Château des Creissauds, near Aubagne, a vintage pastis with subtly iodized notes of glasswort and sea lettuce.
“The chef is emotional,” says a server. If you make a point to him, it can work him all night! »
His three stars, he says he owes it to the feedback from his customers. “The chef is emotional, entrust a server. If you make a point to him, it can work him all night! » The boss, for example, rectified his copy by stripping a turbot of its rye bread crust which gave it thickness and texture, but eclipsed the finesse of the fish. Today, it is simply offered in a “iodized foam”, a mousse that mixes fish cooking juices with oysters from the Thau pond, butter, cream and kaffir lime (a citrus fruit that gives a hint of acidity). The smoothness of the sauce, its refinement make the plate immaculate. The chef’s past as a saucier, who learned the intricacies of the profession from Olivier Brulard, at La Réserve de Beaulieu (Alpes-Maritimes), reappears in style.
At the end of each service, he goes to the tables, slips a joke, takes news of the regulars. “I have a client who comes every week, he confides. I break my head every time to surprise him and change dishes on the menu. The worst thing is that he sends me text messages during the meal to give me his comments! » The leader bursts out laughing. “I do this job for that, not to find myself on a podium but to be in this pleasure, in this exchange. » In an innkeeper.
