Matsuhisa

It's the only Matsuhisa in the French Alps, and the dissonance is part of the pleasure: you come off the slopes, cross the Airelles lobby, and find yourself in front of a black cod miso and a yellowtail jalapeño executed exactly as in London or Aspen. I suggest it mid-stay, when the third Savoyard dinner starts to weigh, it's the meal that puts everyone back on their feet. Nobu Matsuhisa comes in person some winters, for a handful of evenings only. I warn my clients as soon as the dates land. Dinner only, and the room is small: I book as soon as your dates are set.