LUXE Serendipity magazine

By Donna Richardson

Courchevel in winter has a particular rhythm. Mornings unfold in silence broken only by skis cutting through fresh snow; afternoons drift into long lunches and champagne pauses; evenings arrive wrapped in fur-lined coats, candlelight and the low hum of expectation. It is a resort that understands ritual – and this season, there’s a new one worth adopting.

Tucked just moments from the pistes of Courchevel 1850, Pom Thaï feels like an insider’s secret from the moment you step inside. The cold slips off your shoulders, replaced by warm wood, soft lighting and the unmistakable scent of lemongrass and slow-cooked spice. Somewhere between Ibiza and the Alps, the restaurant has landed exactly where it belongs.

Pom Thaï is no newcomer to the well-travelled set. Founded in Ibiza in 2014 by French restaurateur and wine devotee Johnny, alongside Thai head chef Pom, the restaurant earned cult status not through hype but devotion. DJs finished sets here at midnight. Designers lingered over long dinners. Regulars returned year after year, drawn by cooking that was deeply authentic and hospitality that felt instinctive rather than rehearsed.

Bringing that spirit to Courchevel was less a strategic move than a natural migration. “Our guests follow the seasons,” Johnny says. “In summer they’re in Ibiza. In winter, they’re here.” Pom Thaï simply followed.

The Alpine outpost mirrors the restaurant’s philosophy: understated, elegant and quietly confident. There’s no visual noise – just natural materials, curated artworks and tables close enough to feel intimate, far enough apart to feel discreet. It’s the kind of place you settle into, ordering slowly, knowing the night will unfold at its own pace.

The menu is a lesson in restraint and depth. Pom’s cooking draws on ancient Thai recipes and traditional techniques, favouring balance over bravado. Dishes arrive layered with flavour rather than heat, fragrant rather than aggressive.

Start with Toung Tong, crisp golden parcels that open into aromatic fillings, or Lab Neux, bright with herbs and citrus. Suea Rong Hai, perfectly grilled beef, is rich yet precise, while Mou Van offers comfort in its purest form. The Pad Thaï – often mishandled elsewhere — is exemplary here: elegant, nuanced, and deeply satisfying. Curries are slow, fragrant and generous, warming in the way only a mountain evening demands.

What sets Pom Thaï apart, however, is how seamlessly it speaks to modern dining. Vegetarian, vegan and gluten-free options are thoughtfully integrated, never feeling like concessions. Desserts provide a soft landing: Khao Niao Mamuang, with ripe mango and coconut sticky rice, or Por Pia Chocolat, indulgent without excess.

Then there’s the wine. In a resort synonymous with big labels and bigger gestures, Pom Thaï takes a different approach. The list favours artisanal growers, expressive bottles and unexpected pairings that work astonishingly well with Thai flavours. Each recommendation feels personal, considered – part of the conversation rather than an upsell.

As the evening deepens, the room fills with an easy, unforced energy. Conversations stretch. Glasses are refilled. Outside, snow continues to fall, but inside, time slows. Pom Thaï doesn’t chase the spectacle Courchevel is known for – it offers something far more compelling: warmth, authenticity and a sense of belonging.

In a destination that thrives on exclusivity, Pom Thaï’s quiet confidence feels refreshing. It is not trying to reinvent alpine dining, nor compete with its neighbours. Instead, it has carved out its own rhythm — one shaped by flavour, hospitality and the understanding that the best travel experiences are the ones that feel personal.

This winter, when the slopes close and the night begins, Courchevel’s most memorable journey may not be downhill at all – but across continents, from Alpine snow to Thai spice, via a table at Pom Thaï.