Call it the proximity paradox: You live near something beautiful, yet people from farther away seem to appreciate it more. Think of New Yorkers who never spend a day in Central Park, Arizonans who only see the Grand Canyon on postcards, or Ontarians who never make the drive to Niagara Falls.
Albertans live where the prairies rise up to form one of the most stunning mountain ranges on Earth, but we often treat one of the world’s nicest mountain towns as a brief stop on the way to someplace else.
Banff is beautiful, and Fairmont Banff Springs, the “Castle in the Rockies,” is its crown jewel.
Initially built in the late 1800s as part of Canadian Pacific Railway’s network of hotels (it’s expanded and been rebuilt repeatedly since then), the stone exterior rises out of the mountainside and blends naturally into its surroundings. Inside, ornate hallways twist and turn to various viewpoints, bars and the indoor-outdoor saltwater pools. It’s staffed by people who take their jobs extremely seriously (when I ask the lost-and-found attendant if anyone returned my lost hat, she looks like I just asked if anyone returned my lost child), and apparently a few ghosts.
It’s a high-end experience not everyone can afford, but when one of the most popular rum brands in the country offers to put you up for the release of its new, exclusive-to-Canada release, you jump (or take a scenic road trip) at the chance.
So why does Canada get all 30,000 bottles of Appleton Estate’s eight-year-old Double Cask? Master Blender Joy Spence explains.
“My first global tour was in Canada, spending three weeks at a time, three times through the year, from the east coast to the west coast. And it was so well received that this went on for several years. This is how Appleton Estate became so popular with Canadians, and why we wanted to release [the Double Cask] here.”
Spence started as Appleton Estate’s chief chemist, and was promoted to general manager for technical services. “Then I became an octopus — I had my tentacles on everything. I was in the cane fields. I was in the distillery. I was over at the aging warehouse, in the blending hall. So the lab was just a subset at that point in time. I learned everything, and was able to implement a lot of process improvement, and I am grateful for that.”
Rum-drinking Canadians are grateful for Appleton’s first ever cask-finished release that blends classic Appleton’s flavour (aged eight years in American white oak casks in the tropical Jamaican climate) with Scottish sensibility (it was then poured into barrels that previously held 18-year-old Speyside Single Malt Scotch Whisky). With dried honeyed raisins, caramel and sweet vanilla, you might expect it to be too saccharine — and Spence does pair it with hotel-sourced dark chocolate in the dessert portion of our four-flight sample platter (she pairs the other rum samples with dates, gouda and the best blue cheese I’ve ever had). But the sweetness doesn’t overwhelm, even when served neat.
But after sipping four straight shots, even long-time libation lovers (food and drink writers) need heartier food, and the Fairmont provides. Almost everyone orders the Seared Scallop with pork belly lardon, creamed corn, Fresno and peach shoot oil, which mixes well in our rum-filled stomachs. And while the Seared Chicken Breast on crushed squash, wilted greens and Velouté sauce hits the spot, my tablemates’ Beef Short Ribs with crushed sweet potato, crispy brussels sprouts, pickled shimeji and chimichurri looks like it could’ve hit harder.
I’ve taken the Banff Gondola exactly once in my life — on a family trip when I was maybe eight years old. All I remember is wondering why, when we looked down, the town of Banff wasn’t shaped like the letter “B,” because that’s how I thought cities worked (I still think it would be a fun, if unfeasible idea). This time, the ride up is scenic, a bit rocky, and over too soon. But up top is a little slice of heaven — with brunch!
Calling something a “dream” feels cliche. But I’m nearly certain I once dreamed about being high in the sky over these specific snowcaps on this actual day. I may have been flying in the dream, but our feet are planted firmly on the roof of Sky Bistro, where a temporary minibar and talented mixologist await.
New Zealand’s Sam Clark has masterfully mixed drinks in his home country, as well as Australia, the United Kingdom and Scotland. But he calls Banff “the most magical place on Earth.” The cocktail connoisseur makes magic of his own, and on this windy rooftop does his best to pass on a few tricks to his morning mountain audience. But food-and-drink writers are generally the served, not servers themselves, so he has to work hard to avoid less-than-expertly mixed results.
I volunteer to take an Old Fashioned-making lesson in front of the class, and with Clark’s help, it’s the best one I’ve ever fashioned. But it’s easier when you have someone like Clark literally holding your hand (turns out proper stirring is more difficult than shaking), and when you don’t have to cook the syrup yourself. But Clark doesn’t cook it, either. He prefers the blender-style, no-cook method to make simple-syrup (1:1 sugar and water), because it “doesn’t start the cooking process of the sugar, making for a much cleaner simple syrup.”
Despite the strong wind, we all remain atop one of the highest rooftop restaurants in the country. And after taking a call from the lost-and-found department saying staff are still on my lost-hat case (turns out I left it in the truck), I catch up with the group inside Sky Bistro for brunch.
I bring my Old Fashioned inside, but soon see that everyone’s quickly fallen for the Luxardo Limoncello. It’s on the bistro’s dessert drink menu, but we turn it into a brunch aperitif and regret nothing along the way (Old Fashioneds aren’t really a brunch drink, anyway).
And while it’s tough to compare dishes from different times of day, Sky Bistro’s brunch may have outdone the Upper Rundle’s menu from the night before. The Smoked Salmon Potato Pancakes are anti-traditional pancakes in that they eschew sweet for savoury with dill cream cheese, watercress, pickled red onion and capers. My only complaint is they aren’t bigger (the guests who order Short Ribs with truffled pomme puree, creamed spinach, red fox fungi mushrooms and red wine demi, do not have the same complaint).
For the main, I go with the Tuna Melt, and I put the emphasis on “melt” because the albacore tuna, smoked cheddar mornay, caper, pickled onion and dill swirl together with the house brioche to make a creamy concoction that’s addicting and light. It’s tough to tell where the mixture starts and bread ends — until the few little bits of perfectly charred brioche salt the side of my tongue.
Of all the trip’s experiences, the most memorable may be seeing Banff through outsiders’ eyes. Most of the other guests are from Toronto, and I’m surprised to find that for many, this is their first time in the Rockies. As someone who goes to or through them multiple times per year, I look out at Sky Bistro’s mountain vista like I’m seeing an old friend.
But my fellow travellers have more awe in their eyes, and I’m a bit jealous (they also can’t believe how wide the mountains range, and how Lake Louise can stay partially frozen in June). One Toronto-born guest says he hasn’t been to Niagara Falls since he was a kid. And we all agree on the vast, tranquil beauty of beachside, ocean-view towns. But the mountains are dynamic, if slow-moving time machines, bringing Earth’s ancient, ecological secrets well past the surface for us to discover, explore and enjoy. Few spots on Earth offer such opportunities, and few towns present them as brilliantly as Banff does.
