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When I stepped into the grand lobby of Québec’s Le Château Montebello, I felt like I was entering Paul Bunyan’s living room. Giant timbers braced a three-story-high ceiling, and a massive fireplace in the center radiated warmth in all directions. After checking in, I joined the guests gathered around the six-sided hearth and sank into a leather club chair. I spent the rest of the day by the fire, sipping hot toddies and napping, as the comfort of the crackling flames sent me and the other fireside dozers snuggling deeper into our cushions. I had come to ski some of the 65,000 acres of wooded backcountry that neighbor the resort, but the château was so welcoming, I found it hard to leave.


Often described as the world’s largest log cabin, the lodge and two other main buildings were constructed in 1930 from 10,000 red cedar logs and 500,000 handmade wooden shingles. The houses and the vast surrounding forests were long owned by the politically prominent Papineau family, and until 1970, the estate remained a private nature retreat for Canada’s upper class. As I walked through the château’s halls, the intricately carved banisters and exposed beams reminded me of the great western lodges in the U.S. national parks—only without any grumpy tourists demanding to know where the animals are.

In the guest rooms, deluxe amenities such as flat-screen TVs and rain-dome showerheads upstaged anything found in Yellowstone or Yosemite. Despite the modern perks, rawhide lampshades and other rustic details helped my suite retain its frontier appeal. When I got up to pull the plaid drapes closed that night, I watched a horse-drawn sleigh pass by, glowing in the moonlight against the dark ribbon of the frozen Ottawa River.

Without fresh snow to ski the next morning, I was left to explore the lodge’s other activities. I opted out of getting scrubbed with maple sugar at the spa or unsuccessfully flirting with French-Canadian women by the fire, and instead devoted the day to learning the inscrutable rules of curling. The château has an indoor ice rink dedicated to the sport, a national favorite that’s best described as a combination of shuffleboard and falling down a lot. My instructor was Henri, a kindly sexagenarian who, like many in Québec’s western Outaouais region, seemed more comfortable speaking French than English. As it turns out, kindly reassurance sounds the same in either language. But as my backside repeatedly hit the ice, Henri’s patient polyglot insistence that I was doing “une belle job” grew progressively less convincing.

After my rough-and-tumble day, I dined in the white-tablecloth Aux Chantignoles restaurant. Québecois cuisine dominates the menu, and I followed a dinner of tender venison osso buco with a slice of Québec’s famously sweet and jiggly sugar pie—think pecan pie sans pecans. Snow fell just in time for me to ski through the nearby forest on my last day. I spent a long afternoon there, gliding among stands of birch, pine, and spruce in the rolling Laurentian Highlands. Now and again, I paused to admire one of the countless frozen lakes, their smooth surfaces dotted with tracks left by moose and white-tailed deer. I skied in the silent wilderness until just after sunset. As the scent of a wood fire began to tickle my nose, I grew eager to cozy up by the hearth again. I turned back toward the château’s stone chimney, its rising plume of smoke signaling for my return.
This appeared in the November/December 2010 issue.

Skiers and visitors who think fondue and raclette are the best expressions of Switzerland’s melted-cheese cuisine will be surprised when they taste their first Käseschnitte (called croûte au fromage in French-speaking Switzerland). This soul-satisfying, open-faced, broiled-cheese sandwich is usually laden with bacon or ham and topped with perfectly bronzed cheese or a cheesy cream sauce before being garnished with cool pickled cukes and cocktail onions. Cabane du Mont-Fort, a self-serve kiosk located in a 1920s stone Alpine hut on the slopes of Verbier at Les 4 Vallées (Switzerland’s largest ski resort), has the best in the country, not to mention stunning views of Mont Blanc from its outdoor picnic tables. Don’t expect fawning or fast service, but you can count on a thick slice of bread anchored by a slab of melted cheese, marbled sweet and smoky bacon, and a few tomato wedges to offset the fatty richness.

Few cuisines marry as well as Japanese and Mexican, a fusion that’s masterfully explored at Nick-San in Cabo San Lucas and San José del Cabo. Founding chefs Ángel Carabajal and Masayuri Niikura blend centuries-old Japanese recipes (including but not limited to sushi) with locally sourced ingredients to create exceptional bursts of flavor and a menu that has inspired additional locations around Mexico. The black and white tuna sashimi and tuna tostada are two of the most popular dishes, especially when paired with Nick-San’s own label of wines and sake. The original location is in downtown Cabo San Lucas, near the marina. A second Nick-San, in the Shoppes at Palmilla at the southern border of San José del Cabo, is a slightly more elegant space (gilding the lily, you might say) and includes a champagne bar.

A leader in Portland’s vegetable-forward movement, Quaintrelle has quietly become one of the city’s best fine-dining choices. All this on a strip of Mississippi Street better known for bar crawls and brunch lines than for seasonal cuisine and killer cocktails. The eclectic American menu rotates based on what’s available and in season. Almost all of the food is local, from the tempura Meyer lemons to the carrot and raisin salad. Meals at Quaintrelle can easily double as a primer on what can be grown in Oregon, including wouldn’t-guess-this-is-local ingredients like quinoa and wasabi.

Husband-and-wife team Hugue Dufour and Sarah Obraitis have pulled off a remarkable feat, managing to entice gourmets to travel to Long Island City in Queens for a meal. While Obraitis manages M. Wells Steakhouse, Dufour presides over the kitchen. Having honed his craft at Montreal‘s celebrated Au Pied de Cochon, here Dufour reimagines an old-school chophouse by venturing beyond the typical prime cuts of beef to include sweetbreads and pig’s head on the menu. Among the sides, the poutine is a nod to Dufour’s Quebecois roots as are seasonal dishes like the meat pies sold during the winter holidays. Other steak-house classics are updated with touches like candied nuts on the wedge salad. If you want to sample Dufour’s contemporary Quebecois cuisine and aren’t in the mood for steak, the M. Wells Dinette at MoMA PS1 is another option, though it has a limited menu.

After Vltava River floods brought great devastation to this gritty neighborhood and old port, a great change and rebirth began, and new businesses, stores and restaurants began moving in to old factory spaces and art nouveau buildings near the main square and church. Now Karlin is a foodie hotspot and a gentrifying neighborhood. Located across the river from Holešovice, to the east of the historic Old Town, Karlin is home to Veltlin wine bar, which focuses on natural wines from the former Austro-Hungarian Empire; Tea Mountain, a gorgeous tea room; Můj Šálek Coffee; and Eska, a restaurant-bakery serving neo-Nordic-inspired Czech cuisine in a modern industrial setting.

Formerly the residence of the Maharajah of Jaipur, and now one of Jaipur’s most elegant luxury hotels, the 19th-century Rambagh Palace has had a front-row seat to history—and has hosted a long list of royals, dignitaries, and celebrities along the way. As an homage to those regal roots, the hotel’s fine-dining restaurant spotlights the cuisine of four of India’s former princely states: Rajasthan, Awadh, Punjab, and Hyderabad. In what used to be the palace’s banquet hall—still dripping with gilded mirrors and Italian frescos—enjoy dishes like laal maas (a Rajasthani spicy lamb curry), chicken cooked with raw mango and saffron, skillet-grilled lobster, and apricot-stuffed cheese dumplings simmered in tomato gravy. Cap off the night with a drink in the nearby Polo Bar, which serves fine spirits and cocktails inspired by the royal equestrian sport.

While the name translates to the rather simple “dining room”, the experience at Esszimmer is anything but. Since 2004 it has grown to become synonymous with fine cuisine in Salzburg and has been awarded three toques by Gault & Millau as well as one Michelin star. The interior design is modern yet cozy, with a fireplace, warm lighting, and a glass floor providing a glimpse into a water channel from the Middle Ages. Chef Andreas Kaiblinger’s creative plates are visually delightful and scrumptious with bold yet recognizable flavors. Several tasting menus are offered with primarily Austrian and French influences (including excellent vegetarian options), though individual items can be ordered as well.

Running for more than eight miles through the southwest part of the island of Montréal, the Lachine Canal is a window onto the city’s industrial history, reborn in recent decades as a place where nature and the city meet. Originally opened in 1825, the canal, with its five locks, allowed ships traveling between the upper St. Lawrence River and the sea to avoid the treacherous Lachine Falls. (Before the canal opened, ships would typically off-load their cargo at the village of Lachine, which would then be loaded onto another ship on the other side of the falls.) The canal’s banks would soon be filled with small factories, but by 1950 the area had started to decline, in part due to the success of the railway. In 1970, it was closed to shipping completely. Recent efforts to clean up the canal have been successful, and now bikers and walkers take advantage of the paths that line it, while many of the former factories and warehouses have been converted into luxury lofts and condos. In 2002, the canal was opened to boats again—pleasure crafts, not barges—that travel its length. If you decide to explore the canal, the Atwater Market was one of the early projects to redevelop the area, and it remains a great place to buy all the items needed for a picnic.

The 20 de Noviembre market has a variety of food stalls where you can sample many Oaxacan specialties, but carnivores flock to the one corridor that’s known as “El Pasillo de las Carnes Asadas” (the grilled meats aisle). Follow your nose to find it: smoke and the smell of meat grilling are thick in the air. You can select the raw meat that looks best to you and have it grilled to your specifications as you watch on. Find a spot at one of the long tables with benches and order salsa and guacamole to accompany your feast. Buy some tortillas from one of the passing vendors, and enjoy!

Parreirinha is a favourite amongst Portuguese South Africans living in Johannesburg and serves some of the best seafood around! A small, former jail is the home of the restaurant, which makes use of one of the jail cells as one of the dining rooms. As you walk into the restaurant you’re welcomed with a tavern like ambiance and entering the court yard you’re treated to a sea of neck ties hanging from the rafters... remnants of an old tradition that required patrons to leave their ties behind. The tradition no longer applies these days as there’s simply no more space, but if you feel like you want to leave a tie behind as a sign that you’d been there, then they’ll gladly take it off your neck! The food at Parreirinha is quite simply amazing! Heck, even the Protuguese bread rolls are divine! On this occasion I shared a Seafood kebab, meant for one, with my friend and we were both definitely full as the last scraps made their way into our bellies. If you’re stuck on something to choose, I’d highly recommend something with prawn. The prawns are great! If you’re not looking for a meal, you can always take up a spot at the bar and enjoy the drinks on offer.

Just off the Cloud Nine lift on Aspen Highlands, you’ll find a Swiss-looking log cabin with a large patio and pristine views of the Maroon Creek Valley. When you walk in, the pungent smell of cheese may overwhelm you, but don’t be deterred. The delicious fondue is worth it. The best time to go is after a full day of skiing; make a late-lunch reservation because that’s when all the action starts. As it gets later, the crowd starts getting a little rowdy and dance parties have been know to break out, with people taking to the tabletops. Ski patrollers sometimes has to shut it down during their last sweep of the mountain, but don’t fret: If you don’t feel comfortable skiing down, they’ll graciously give you a ride.

It’s an unforgettable experience: Getting up at the crack of dawn in mid-winter, walking through the large municipal park on the Pest side of town, checking in to the Széchenyi Thermal Bath (mostly with Hungarian pensioners because tourists usually arrive later), and slowly easing into one of its three large outdoor hot spring pools, surrounded by the golden yellow neo-Baroque palace—built in 1913 for the baths—while old men playing chess in the water. Then watch as the sun rises slowly, and your breath dissipates into the cold, crisp air. The spa has 15 indoor baths, too, as well as 10 saunas at various temperatures. This spa isn’t about being posh, it’s about easing into the kind of everyday self-care that Hungarians have known and avidly practiced for centuries. Just join them.

A 1901 landmark in Hanoi’s French Quarter, the colonial-style Sofitel Legend Metropole has long been a celebrity magnet, welcoming presidents, ambassadors, and literary and cinematic royalty into its marble lobby. Somerset Maugham and Graham Greene both wrote books here (The Gentleman in the Parlour and The Quiet American, respectively); Charlie Chaplin and Paulette Goddard celebrated their honeymoon at the property; and Jane Fonda and Joan Baez took to the bomb shelter beneath the hotel during air raids (book the complementary Path of History Tour, held every day at 5 and 6 p.m., for a chance to see where they hid out).

The 364 guest rooms are divided between two wings: The historic Metropole section has decor shaped by French architecture and Vietnamese culture (think wood floors, louver windows, bird-cage lampshades, and porcelain light fixtures); the newer wing, opened in 1996 just across the traffic circle from the Opera House, has a strong Neoclassical edge with rooms in dramatic red, black, and white. With its green awning, filigree ironwork, and outdoor wood-deck seating, La Terrasse has the feel of a Parisian café, while Le Beaulieu restaurant serves classic French fare and a decadent Sunday brunch. Spices Garden showcases Vietnamese flavors, and three drinking dens—sleek Angelina, gentlemanly Le Club Bar, and poolside Bamboo Bar—appeal to every kind of spirits lover. Between the central courtyard garden and the pool sit the SoFit gym and Le Spa, with eight rooms for soothing East-meets-West treatments.

From the luxury Oetker Collection, Le Bristol is one of the first hotels in France to obtain Palace distinction. Occupying nearly an entire block on Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré near the Élysée presidential palace, this soulful property has been a gathering place for Parisians since 1925. The 190 guest rooms, which feel like private apartments, are decorated with precious fabrics, paintings, and 18th-century antiques. The on-site attractions include a spa by Le Prairie, a teak-lined pool resembling a yacht, and a courtyard garden fragrant with jasmine. For more than a decade, chef Eric Frechon has held three Michelin stars at Epicure, where menu fixtures include the macaroni stuffed with black truffle and foie gras. Frechon’s culinary dominions are a portal into French gastronomy itself: The hotel has its own chocolate factory, cheese cellar, flour mill, and boulangerie.