Work above the snowline

Run the main bar and its glacier-ice program. You know your aquavits from your akvavits, you stir more than you shake, and you can hold a Saturday night at altitude without breaking stride.

Second to our chef de cuisine on a short Japanese-fusion menu. Hokkaido technique, alpine larder, one thing over binchotan coals. Small brigade, high standard, no brunch.

Steward a compact list of grower Champagne, Jura, and old-world reds for a twelve-seat room. Thursday through Sunday evenings. You pour, you tell the story, you never rush anyone.

First face at the door and keeper of the book. You seat forty guests a night across two rooms, remember who sat where last winter, and make a full house feel unhurried.

Ice, glass, prep, repeat — November through April. The fastest route we have into a bartending role, and the only job on the mountain with a cedar-smoke perk.

Own the last course: yuzu, black sesame, dark chocolate, snow. One dessert per menu, changed with the season, executed perfectly forty times a night.