All the clichés about working up an appetite aside, ski vacations should be as much about eating as they are about schussing. After all, a big, hearty meal is the one thing that pulls everyone away from their individual pursuits—teetering on the bunny slope, conquering the black diamond, relaxing in the hot tub—to come together as a family. And these days, there's a lot more to look forward to than rubbery burgers or foil-wrapped hot dogs, because some of the world's best ski areas are also beginning to establish themselves as foodie destinations.
We've compiled a list of our favorites, but top among them is Big Sky, Montana (see our guide). Over the past 20 years, as crowds swarmed Utah and Colorado, southwestern Montana's Madison mountain range has quietly attracted skiers in search of virgin snow. In 2005 the two major resorts here, Big Sky Resort and the neighboring Moonlight Basin, merged, offering visitors access to both sides of the mountain with one pass via a centrally located gondola. With over 5,500 acres, Big Sky is now the largest ski area in the U.S., and it gives visitors the ability to sample 220 runs—and two vastly different experiences. With 18 lifts, varied trails (including one that's six miles long), and a massive wood-beamed lodge that's abuzz with families, Big Sky is a sprawling old-school ski resort. On the other side of the mountain, Moonlight Basin is the boutique counterpart, with a quiet stone main building, an attentive staff, a serene full-service spa, and well-manicured beginner and intermediate slopes.
At the end of the day, it's as easy to find an organic mesclun salad as it is a grilled cheese at either resort. But the best fare isn't necessarily in the most obvious spots. There is, for example, the unassuming truck-stop deli between Bozeman and Big Sky called Mama Mac's, which serves up one of the best turkey reubens in the West. Or Buck's T-4 (located inside a cowboy-style Best Western), a romantic wood-paneled restaurant specializing in exquisitely prepared local meat, including grilled bison, wild-game pâté, even a mini filet mignon for kids—all served up in a rustic dining room decorated with vintage hunting gear and a big stony hearth.
Perhaps best of all, despite the great slopes and good eats, Big Sky has yet to become as overrun as Mammoth or as expensive as Aspen. The lack of crowds—and pretension—is largely thanks to the dearth of direct flights into Bozeman's Gallatin Field Airport, about an hour away. Montanans consider this a good thing—in fact, most residents discuss direct flights from L.A. and New York City in apocalyptic terms. After a week of breezing through lift lines, you'll understand why.
