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Housed on a 1,100-foot stretch of beachfront, Grace Bay Club is as stylishly current as it was in 1993, when it became the first luxury hotel to open on the then nearly empty sands of Grace Bay. From its original 21 rooms, the upscale property has grown to 82 suites, each of which features ocean views, a private veranda or patio, and chic interiors by renowned designer Thom Felicia. Guests can also look forward to superior service, including a personal concierge available day or night via a provided cell phone.

When hunger strikes, there’s the oceanfront Infiniti Restaurant & Raw Bar, which boasts sea-to-table fare and the longest bar in the Caribbean, as well as several other family-friendly venues, including The Grill. If it’s pampering you seek, make time to visit the spacious Anani Spa, where you’ll find six treatment rooms, including one just for couples. A spa tent is also available for beachfront massages.

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.

Sit down to dine at The Mansion, and you may come face to face with a spread that looks like this: Skagit River sockeye salmon with green risotto and confit tomatoes; Snake River flat iron steak with beet sauce; and sprigs of fresh lavender in a dainty vase. Certainly you can be sure you’ll be sampling the finest Pacific Northwest bounty, given the restaurant’s commitment to sourcing most ingredients—including stone fruit, mushrooms, oysters, Mangalitsa pigs, and greens—from Orcas Island and its environs. The restaurant occupies the waterfront veranda of historic Moran Mansion, part of Rosario Resort & Spa and named for shipbuilder and former Seattle mayor Robert Moran.

You might not think of Vienna as a very Greek city, but guess what: The oldest restaurant in town is the Griechenbeisl, the Greek Tavern. Back in the late 15th century, Levantine traders lodged in this building on Fleischmarkt street, and its hodgepodge of rooms in which many a historic figure have dined hasn’t changed much since. The walls of the Mark Twain Room are decorated with autographs by the great scribe and many other notable figures. Despite its name, the Greek Tavern specializes in schnitzel and other dishes that are as pure Austrian as can be. And the live music you enjoy while dining won’t be made by a bouzouki, but by a Viennese zither. Out front there is a plaque commemorating the 17th-century minstrel Marx Augustin, famous as the subject of the song “Oh Du Lieber Augustin.”

Not only do husband-and-wife team John Shields and Karen Urie Shields share an impressive culinary background (one that entails gigs at Tru, Alinea, and Charlie Trotter’s between them), they now share two restaurants: the Loyalist, a neighborhood restaurant focused on farm-fresh fare, and Smyth, an upscale tasting-menu eatery embodying those same sourcing philosophies. It’s the latter that garnered a Michelin star within just six weeks of opening, thanks to an incredibly ingredient-focused approach that often means making key elements of dishes in-house. Dungeness crab with saltwater-poached foie gras and scrambled kani miso continues to be a favorite for diners, as is the egg-custard dessert—a brilliant and beguiling bowl of egg yolk, salted licorice, and frozen-yogurt meringue.

One of the most romantic hideouts on Bonaire, La Balandra is designed to make you feel like you’re dining on an old Spanish ship when, in fact, you’re ensconced in the Harbour Village Beach Club. Cruise passengers have two options here: Pay an approximately $50 resort fee that includes a credit toward the restaurant, but also gives you access to the private beach, lounge chairs, dive shop and other facilities—or go for the restaurant only. Either way, call ahead to reserve (599-717-7500).

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.

Upholding the brand’s five-star standard, the Ritz-Carlton Osaka is an opulent city hotel with all the expected amenities. The decor feels more 18th-century England than modern-day Japan, but the location,in the central Nishi-Umeda district, is perfect for business and shopping. The six fine-dining restaurants range from traditional French delicacies to seasonal Japanese sushi to a “chocolate factory” buffet; the whisky bar is noted for its extensive list of more than 100 malts. Plush and spacious rooms have sweeping views of the Osaka skyline, including the unique Umeda Sky building. The fitness center and spa has a heated indoor pool, baths, and jacuzzis which overlook a small garden. The Ritz-Carlton completed a refurbishment of their guest rooms and club lounge in summer 2017, in celebration of the hotel’s 20th anniversary.

The success of the TV drama Borgen has piqued international interest in the building that houses the Danish government. Christiansborg Palace (from which Borgen takes its name) is also the tallest tower in the city center, and it’s free to visit though you will have to go through airport-style security to get in. There’s a viewing platform or, better yet, go to the casual restaurant in the tower. One of the most unusual and memorable places to dine in Copenhagen, the belfry-like eatery has a Harry Potter–like charm, with casts of sculptures left over from the time the space was used as a storage room.

Nobu Restaurant, located at the marina of Four Seasons Hotel Doha, is the biggest Nobu restaurant in the world. Its Friday brunches are a true epicurean adventure from 12:30 pm to 4:00 pm. Its elite brunch includes sushi stations, foie gras, oysters, salads, fresh orange-spotted trevally, wild caught black-streaked monocle, spicy chicken tacos, wagyu rib eye with anticucho, shrimp tempura amazu ponzuand, and its signature dish: black cod in yusu miso, among other mouth-watering dishes. Of course, all of this comes with a price tag. Regular brunch is 355 QAR, ($98); Brunch with alcohol is 475 QAR, ($130). Then again, the place is right along the water’s edge on the Arabian Gulf, boasts massive amounts of room for everyone to move around both indoors and outdoors, and has a 360-degree panoramic cityscape and water views, creating an unrivaled ambiance to dine, dish and spend time with family and friends.

If Mandapa, “temple” in Sanskrit, feels more like a community than a hotel, that’s because it is. The resort occupies 24 green acres on a property previously owned by a group of neighboring families, who retain access to the land and its on-site temple. As a result, it maintains three acres of rice paddies and a traditional rice barn on stilts, and the villagers bring daily offerings to the temple, giving Mandapa a strong connection to local culture.




The hotel’s open-air lobby sits 300 feet above the Ayung River valley, overlooking 35 hillside suites with views of the jungle and rice paddies and 25 villas along the flowing river. The suites are furnished with traditional Balinese pieces and artwork and stand-alone soaking tubs, while the high-ceilinged villas, decorated with vividly colored botanical panels, have large pools and separate master suites.





Everywhere, local materials and design elements feature prominently, from the thatched roofs to the fringed umbrellas that shade the lounge chairs by the pool. The riverside spa is another place to discover Balinese products through deeply relaxing treatments and spiritual ones with a local healer, too. Five dining and drinking outlets include fine-dining restaurant Kubu, a spot for high tea, a cocktail and dinner venue called Ambar, and Sawah Terrace, where Sundays feature a Royal Brunch. Ubud’s center is only 10 minutes by car, but the guided vintage VW convertible tours on offer are arguably the best way to get around. From $1,250

Forget Google Maps: You’ll quickly locate this venerable tapas bar in El Poble-Sec by the line out the door. With standing-room-only space for just 20 people, this sliver of a spot fills up fast—and stays that way until closing time. In a room lined floor-to-ceiling with bottles of wine, liquor, and pricey vinegar, you can sample a dizzying variety of tapas and montaditos (small bites served atop slices of bread). Many of the ingredients—namely the mussels, sardines, and tuna—come from cans, which sounds suspect, but Spanish conservas (tinned food) is actually of the highest quality. The cheeses—all fresh—are also top-notch.

Who knew grocery shopping could be so photogenic? In summer, you’ll be tempted to photograph the piles of tomatoes; in winter, the tangles of greens. Wander around to get a sense of what is in season and what you will find on local menus at lunch and dinner. Rows of stalls sell meat, salami, fresh fish, pasta, cheese, and bread. If all that food makes you hungry, look for the Trattoria del Rocco inside the market, a diner that serves lunch created from produce sold on-site. The early bird gets the worm here: Everything is swept up and closed down by early afternoon.

With only a couple of exceptions, you can’t soak in Yellowstone’s thermal features (this is for numerous reasons, not the least of which is that most are so scalding hot they’d burn the flesh off you). North of Gardiner, Montana, though, in the no-stoplight community of Pray, Chico Hot Springs has welcomed soakers to its spring-fed hot pools since 1900. Spend the night in one of the quirky rooms in the historic main lodge, originally built as a boardinghouse for miners, or in a refurbished caboose from the Northern Pacific Railroad. If at all possible, plan to be at Chico on a Sunday morning, when it serves the best brunch in Montana.

When the Art family bought the struggling Chico Hot Springs Resort in 1972, some of the earliest improvements they made were to its dining room. The idea was to create one of the best restaurants in the state; if guests came for the food, maybe they’d spend the night. The family succeeded. Today the Chico Dining Room is so beloved it spawned a cookbook, A Montana Table: Recipes from Chico Hot Springs Resort. While ingredients are as fresh as can be—with produce from on-site greenhouses, meat from local ranchers, seafood flown in overnight from the coast—the menu includes some dishes that have been around for more than 40 years. The classic Chico meal is beef Wellington (service for two) and, for dessert, a Flaming Orange, which is exactly what it sounds like.

You’ve heard of farm-to-table, but the Well at Jordan’s Farm takes it to another level: farm-as-table. Culinary Institute of America grad Jason Williams sources most of the ingredients for his daily-changing menu from what’s in season here on Jordan’s Farm, a 122-acre land trust property operated by the third generation of Jordans. Reservations are essential to get a seat at this alfresco restaurant—there are only a few at the kitchen counter as well as a handful of picnic tables and dining gazebos around the grounds. For a small donation, pick fresh flowers for the table. Bring your own alcohol, and leave the credit card behind; this is a cash-only establishment.