food travel

Romancing the truffle in Richerenches, Provence

maki — Tue, 06 Nov 2007 18:31:40 +0100

Originally published on December 9, 2006: We won't be able to go to Provence this winter because of work, but I still dream about it, and plan for the next trip hopefully in the spring. Here is an article from our trip last year, about a wonderful truffle market in northern Provence. I hope you enjoy it!

The lady vendor with the intense blue gaze and the black beret on her head looks a little like a French Resistance worker from an old movie. She gestures with her hands as she talks, occasionally taking one of her wares gently in her slender fingers. Around her a curious group of people gathers, looking and sniffing intently, asking questions. I slowly inch my way to the front and look into the bowl, then up to her face, my meager French deserting me. She smile and tells me to pick one.

I choose a modestly small one, a tad bigger than a golf ball, too shy to touch one of the big, multi-lobed ones. I take it to my nose, and inhale. I wish that at this point I had more poetic words to describe the sensation, but the only thing I can say is "Wow". That pungent aroma is so unique that it's impossible to articulate. Earthy? Slightly gamey? It's just what it is - truffle.

We are at the Marché aux Truffes in Richerenches, a tiny village tucked away in a corner of the Drôme, the north western part of Provence. For most of the year it's off the beaten track, barely visited by outsiders. But every Saturday morning from November to March, it is one of the most important destinations for lovers of that expensive and pungent tuber. It's the largest truffle market in Provence, and is said to be the largest in terms of quantity of truffles traded in Europe.

Just walking around the market it's hard to tell that it's so important at first glance. The main market is just a few tables set up along the main street in the middle of the village, and of those only a couple are actually selling truffles or truffle-related items. The rest are selling the usual market things like fresh vegetables, juices, cheese and cured meats.

We've heard though that the main drag is not where the real action takes place. Sure enough, at the end of the road is a tree-covered parking lot filled with small white vans.

The parking lot under the old plane trees, where most of the serious truffle action takes place

There are little groups of people huddled together, heads down, whispering closely. There are some men leaning into the back of a van, deep in discussion. I feel that I shouldn't be trying to photograph them up close, so I put the camera away and stroll through the parking lot, trying to look as casual as possible. I catch glimpses of small cloth and plastic bags weighted down at the bottom, of hands coming out of pockets with black clumps in them. Wads of currency are being pulled out and passed from hand to hand.

It all feels very clandestine. I'm not really sure if it is actually that, since it's not like the people are totally hiding what they are doing. It's clearly a strictly cash-only trade, in any case.

I once read somewhere that the buying and selling of truffles appeals strongly to the French character - it's expensive, rare, something delicious to eat, and not quite legal since much of it is cash-only, under the table. (There were a few policemen hovering around the main market street, but they seemed to be there for general security. There must be quite a few euros being carried around there.) I am sure that the intrigue and secrecy simply adds to the appeal of the truffle.

Some Richerenches market goers enjoying some wine..maybe they're celebrating a good day of truffle selling...

I wish that I had the guts to go up to one of the sellers and ask to see their wares, but...well I don't. Instead, I get my truffles from one of the open and above-board market street stalls. The truffle stalls are all selling the black knobbly fungi for the same price: €500 per kilo. That may seem like a staggering price, but it is somewhat cheaper than one might pay elsewhere. Since a little truffle goes a long way, it doesn't feel too outrageous. (For what it's worth, matsutake, a fungus that is highly prized in Japan, can cost 5 to 10 times that.)

Cleaning, preparing and eating the truffle

The final objective is to actually consume these black lumps of mystery and aroma, which I proceed to do as soon as we're back at our rented house. (This is why I love to stay in rented houses or apartments nowadays when I travel, as I've explained here before in my Food Lover's Guide to Provence series - I love the chance to try out freshly acquired ingredients right away!) I'd never cooked with fresh, whole truffles before this, but it is less intimidating than I'd thought. The two modest sized truffles I've purchased (legitimately) came with a small pamphlet explaining how to handle them. Following the instructions, I carefully brush off as much of the fine dirt clinging to the outsides as I can with a damp paper towel. As I rub the surface, the aroma becomes even stronger - it's almost overwhelming.

I don't have a truffle slicer, but the elegant silver ones on sale at the market look very much like a vegetable peeler or cheese slicer to me, so I tackle a truffle with a humble stainless steel peeler. This works quite well. The texture is firm, quite unlike other fungi, and rather buttery. Each slice seems to release even more aroma, which fills the kitchen, drawing in appreciative sniffers.

For my first meal, I shave one truffle lavishly over freshly cooked tagiatelle that's been tossed in a little butter and a few drops of truffle oil. It feels wildly extravagant (though if you think about it, one truffle costs less than a mediocre meal at a restaurant.) This accompanies some magret du canard for dinner. It's rare that a duck breast plays a supporting role but in this case the truffled pasta is the star, drawing oohs and aahs of appreciation as each diner puts their heads into their plates and inhales.

The next day, I make a Pommes Anna with truffle slices scattered between layers. I had something like this some years ago at the Restaurant Buerehiesel in Strasbourg, the first time I'd had a dish with serious chunks of real truffle, and have never forgotten it. This was an even bigger hit than the truffled pasta. The bland butteriness of the potato is a perfect vehicle for the truffle aroma and texture.

Pommes Anna with truffles

To serve 4-6 people as a side dish, or 2 as a luxurious feast

about 8 medium-large firm boiling type potatoes (not fluffy baking potatoes; in the U.S. Yukon Golds would be perfect, in the U.K. Maris Pipers; in Europe Charlottes or Bintjes would be good. I used Charlottes.)
2 Tbs. light olive oil
2 Tbs. butter
1 Tbs. truffle oil
1 medium or 2 small truffles
crunchy sea salt and freshly ground pepper

Preheat the oven to 150°C / 300°F.

Heat the oils and butter in a small pan just until the butter is melted.

Slice the truffle thinly (but not too thinly) with a slicer or a vegetable peeler.

Peel the potatoes and put them in a bowl of water as you work. Slice the potatoes as thinly as you can. Layer the potatoes into a round casserole dish, and sprinkle each later with a little salt and pepper and a drizzle of the combined oils. Every few layers, sprinkle on some of the truffle slices. Continue until all the potatoes are used up, then drizzle on the rest of the oils. Finish up with any remaining truffle.

Bake for an hour in the oven, until a knife stuck in the middle goes through easily and the top is golden brown. Serve immediately.

If you can't get a hold of fresh truffles, try this just with some good quality truffle oil to get the aroma experience.

Some thoughts on the vegetarian experiment in Provence

maki — Mon, 02 Jul 2007 13:15:54 +0200

For the last two weeks I was in the Provence, I tried a short term experiment of cooking vegetarian dishes only. Here are some thoughts on that experiment.

As I’ve stated here before, I’m not a vegetarian though proportionately I don’t eat much meat. Therefore, I thought that the experiment should go quite easily. It was easy in some respects, due to the easy availability of an abundance of fresh produce.

However, I realized after a couple of days that I handicapped myself a bit by trying the experiment away from my usual arsenal of Asian ingredients - the only one I had was a small bottle of soy sauce. The reason for this is pretty simple: umami. In Japanese cooking in particular and Asian cooking in general, umami is often added in the form of things like miso, soy sauce, seaweed and so on. In French cooking in general, including Provençal cooking, umami is added in the form of some kind of meat, fish or cheese. A lot of vegetable dish recipes call for some chopped up lardons (sort of like bacon), or some anchois (anchovies), an animal-based stock, and so on. I did allow myself cheese, but I didn’t want to add cheese to every dish either. (We ate more cheese on its own, rather than adding it to dishes.)

There are some vegetable based ingredients with umami though: tomatoes in particular. Early tomatoes were everywhere, and I used them almost every day, cooked or raw. Most vegetables have some umami, and I used loads and loads of fresh zucchini (courgettes) and peppers. Onions, shallots and garlic are a good source of glutamates. Beans and legumes, it seems, have their own umami too. I was quite happy with the results most of the time.

I did miss the direct hit of umami that you can get from meat and fish though, and especially from my familiar collection of Japanese umami ingredients. Miso in particular would have been really good to have on hand.

Some umami links:

Umami Information Center - a very nice, well-organized site
Society For Research On Umami and Taste
Umami series on Tigers and Strawberries - some great articles here.

But was it a good idea?

A commenter said this recently:

Why should anybody going to southern France deliberatly give up on fish and meat? This is stupid. Sorry.

It’s a good point actually. When you are a food lover on vacation, you probably want to experience all aspects of local food offerings. I was cutting myself off from a portion of the offerings.

If it was my one and only opportunity to go there I probably wouldn’t have tried out the experiment. But it wasn’t. Provence is just a day’s drive away from where I live - about 6 hours total, not counting rest stops. So we go there whenever we can, time and budget allowing, without thinking about it too much. If I were going to somewhere much further away, I wouldn’t restrict myself in this way.

In addition, I don’t really think that meat per se is a huge feature of Provençal food. On the coast seafood is everywhere - and we did eat seafood at restaurants a couple of times. You will miss out on eating the dried sausages and things that you’ll see at every market, and some Provençal classics like daube (meat marinated in wine and cooked with vegetables). But overall it’s not a huge loss. Maybe my palate is not refined enough, but I don’t see the big deal with things like toureau (bull) meat from the Camargue, for instance, and frankly the fresh sausages and things we get here in Zürich are better overall - or at least, more to my taste - than the ones there. In other regions of France like Burgundy (great beef dishes) or Languedoc-Roussillon (mmm, cassoulet), you will be missing out on a bit more.

But the point is, vegetarians can have a great time food wise in Provence, without feeling left out in any way. There are so many delicious fruits and vegetables around, plus lots of interesting cheeses. I would recommend the self-catering approach to take full advantage of them. See A Food Lover’s Way Of Exploring Provence for how I go about this.

Salty bread and salty tears

maki — Sun, 24 Jun 2007 21:24:21 +0200

The sign that is no more.

As we approached the tiny hilltop village of Montsegur-sur-Lauzon in northern Provence, my mouth was already watering in anticipation of the bread at the one and only boulangerie (bakery) there. I’d been looking forward to this for months, ever since last November, when we’d made one last stopover to load up on bread to sustain us for the long drive back home and a couple of days beyond.

I’ve written about my love for this boulangerie before. The bread there was the best I’ve ever had - bursting with flavor and character. Even when the loaves turned a bit stale after a couple of days, they were still so good. I was convinced that if the baker, Monsieur Metaud, was in Paris, he’d be world famous.

It was a Sunday, and there was a small queue of people waiting for their bread in the tiny store. Neither of the two people behind the counter, a young man and a middle aged woman, were Madame or Monsieur Metaud, but that didn’t concern us - they had other people selling bread there before, especially on weekends. But as we shuffled closer to the front of the line, something seemed a bit off. The collection of exotic teas that used to line the wall shelves were gone. The pretty display of confections was quite pared down.

Still, I spotted a sign stuck into a loaf that said baguettes au vin et à larosette, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh great, they haven’t run out yet”, I whispered. They often ran out of this, my favorite bread out of all of their excellent selection - a gutsy, salty, twisted loaf of goodness, faintly pink and grey from red wine, with chunks of rosette, a kind of Provençal salami, in it.

We ordered a baguette traditionelle, a baguette au levain and a couple of those baguettes au vin et à la rosette, and exited the store rapidly. As usual, I tore off the end of one of the baguettes and popped it into my mouth as soon as I as outside.

I stopped and stared into the bag. As we walked back to the car, I pulled out the whole loaf - smaller, as I’d already spotted, and darker than I remembered - and broke it in half.

“Something’s wrong” I frowned. Max, who was about to turn on the ignition, stopped and looked at me. “What do you mean, something’s wrong?”

“It’s not the same bread at all”, I held out a half of the loaf. “See, the rosette isn’t in chunks, it’s shredded. And the bread itself…” I took another bite, just to make sure. “It’s just…ordinary.”

With a skeptical look Max tore off a chunk and chewed. “Hmmm…” he said. “Hmmm…” We looked at each other in dismay. Wordlessly, he took a ripped into the baguette traditionelle too, and handed me a piece. There was no doubt about it: this was not bread from the same baker.

Leaving the loaves in the car we walked back to the bakery, still stunned. Now I noticed some more things. The window display was somehow different: instead of the imaginative and feminine arrangements I’d seen before (one I remember had lavender candies arranged like a lavender field with toy bees hovering over), there was a fairly standard basket of several loaves of bread. Outside the store, instead of the faded green on white sign proclaiming PAIN GAULOIS - PATISSERIE - PAIN DE COURGE, there was a metal Artisan Boulanger sign, that you see on the fronts of many bakeries (I’m not sure but I think it’s some sort of franchise sign).

“Do you think that it’s really a different baker?” I whispered in dismay, as we peered into the store again. Now, the two people selling bread looked more like proprietors than hired help, somehow. Max scratched his head.

We decided to get another loaf, any loaf, so that we could test it some more. We got an ordinary baguette. In the car, we munched thoughtfully, looked at the crust, examined the crumb.

Don’t get me wrong - it was a perfectly acceptable baguette. But it was not special anymore. The crumb was too even, lacking the interesting, gutsy holes. The crust, crusty yes, but not sharp and crackling and full of vigor. Occasionally Monsieur Metaud’s baguettes were a bit on the too-salty side, which made them even more interesting in a way, but I felt that this new baguette was almost too bland.

That day we drove away, rather stunned. Later on, we decided that questions needed to be asked. Maybe the baker just had an off day. We hoped, really hoped, that was the case.

But somehow I already sensed it wasn’t so.

A few days later we drove back to the village, and went to the boucherie (butcher shop) on the other side of the village square - we felt rather awkward about trying to talk to the new people behind the counter in the boulangerie. There, we learned that Monsieur Metaud had indeed sold the boulangerie. He was living in a nearby town, but no longer baking. That magical bread that I had spent months dreaming about was no more.

I can’t deny that for a few minutes, I did feel some tears welling up. Crying over bread, or any kind of food that is no longer available, may seem silly to a lot of people. It seems a bit silly to me even. Still, there is a corner of my heart where I mourn those foods that I can no longer have, including that wonderful bread. The terrific hamburger that I used to have at a coffee shop that went out of business a decade ago. My first cassoulet, at a tiny restaurant in Toulouse that I can’t remember the location of. The bright blue ice lollies I loved when I was seven. The turtle soup I had, at age eight, at a long gone country house restaurant in England. The delicate cuttlefish sushi with sea salt and yuzu prepared by an itamae-san who passed away. My grandmother’s pickles. And lots, lots more.

I may try to recreate some of those breads, especially the baguettes au vin et à la rosette, for myself. And there are other, terrific bakers out there of course - and we already discovered a couple, once we were left without the magic of M. Metaud’s bread (I’ll write about these shortly). But it isn’t, and never will be, the same. It’s never the same.

This is why great food is such an elusive art form, that we can only experience in the now. We can listen to music that has been recorded, watch a great movie over and over again, or gaze at a wonderful painting. That astonishingly delicious mouthful can never be experienced like that again - and once the creator stops making it, it’s gone forever. So when we are lucky enough to encounter great food, we need to savor it for all its worth, to imprint it as much as possible on our taste buds and in our memories.

This is one of the reasons why I write about food, to keep a record of those precious, fleeting moments of pleasure.

Back! Apologies, and a mystery

maki — Sun, 24 Jun 2007 18:31:08 +0200

I’m back home from Provence, both in the physical sense and the interweb sense. I actually lost Net access for the past two weeks (we thought we had something more convenient but it turned out we needed to drive 30 minutes one way to get to a WiFi spot, and well…other things sort of took priority). What I need to get into my head is that in this day and age, being offline for so long is not a good thing. It’s sort of like being MIA, for a lot of people that know me. Yes, I confess I didn’t even check my email for two weeks. So…if this affected you in relation to your food related questions and so on, I apologize. Next time I go away I’ll make sure I can at least get online once a day.

I’ll have a lot, lot more to say about my trip later on, but in the meantime, here is a little mystery. Can you identify these? (Click on the image to get a bigger view. RSS readers will have to go to the site to do this.) I’d never seen them in this state before.

While the food in Provence is glorious - the freshest vegetables and fruit ever, tons of fresh garlic, and delicious cheeses, fragrant herbs - I really, really missed Japanese food. I did bring a (very small) bottle of soy sauce with me, but no rice or any other ingredients. (Curiously I found nori and soy sauce at the local hypermarché, but no Japonica rice, or most other needed ingredients. So I’m not sure what rice the people of Provence make sushi with.)

Last summer, I had to make an emergency stop at a small Japanese-Korean restaurant in Aix-en-Provence to take care of the withdrawal symptoms, but this year I toughed it out for three whole weeks. But anyway, the first thing I did when we got home last night? Make a potful of rice and have a bowlful with an umeboshi. I think the older I get, the more Japanese I’m getting. If my long term plans to Get A Place In Provence work out, I’m definitely going to have to sort out the Japanese food supply situation.

The vegetarian experiment

maki — Tue, 05 Jun 2007 06:19:22 +0200

The comments on the post about whether vegetarian restaurants should only be reviewed by vegetarians have been really interesting - if you haven’t read them yet, please take a look here. This has made me decide to do a small experiment. I’m here in Provence for three weeks, and I’ll be cooking most of our meals (that’s why we like to rent a place with a kitchen whenever we come here, as I wrote about last year). So, I’m going to make all of our meals in-house vegetarian. Lacto-vegetarian to be precise, since not having any of the delicious cheeses here would be too much of a sacrifice and the self-proclaimed ‘bovo-vegetarian’ in house will rebel before we’ve even started. We will be giving up eggs though (a hardship in itself since I love eggs), and meat and fish. (We might have a bouillabaise once at a restaurant.) I’ll also try to stick as much as possible to locally produced food, though I’m not going to be as strict there. (E.g. I will use spices and things like lemons from elsewhere.)

Admittedly, here with all of the glorious locally produced fresh produce it should be a breeze. I doubt it will change my palette much but it will help me concentrate on coming up with different and tasty vegetarian dishes. The better results will be posted here of course!

From a place in the sun

maki — Mon, 04 Jun 2007 20:31:28 +0200

We drove all day on Saturday and arrived late at night to a place that is quite close to my idea of Paradise.

We’re in Cassis, a small jewel of a town on the Mediterranean coast of France. Quite close to Marseilles, but worlds away in all other ways. Chic yet a lot more laid back than the Cote d’Azur.

This is the view towards the small harbor from the roof terrace of the apartment we’ve rented for a week. I’ve been spending most of my time so far on that terrace, dozing.

We did however rouse ourselves enough to make it to a market, where we saw this rather astonishing display of locally picked violette asparagus stalks.

Strawberries abound too, as do apricots and cherries, and even early raspberries.

I had some of those fresh strawberries in a fruits mixté . It tasted just like pure crushed strawberries. (The other one is a pineapple version, which I thought was heresy.)

The pace of posting will be a bit slow for the next three weeks while I catch up on my sun and sleep quotient…but the camera and note taking will be quite busy for sure.

Cassis, France (1)

maki — Mon, 04 Jun 2007 20:09:17 +0200

Zürich Culinary Snapshot up on thepassionatecook

maki — Fri, 04 May 2007 20:40:36 +0200

Johanna of the passionate cook has been running a series called Culinary Snapshots, of cities around the world. The Culinary Snapshot of Zürich that I wrote is now up there. (The pictures there were taken in late March by the way, when it was warm enough for t-shirts!) Re-reading it now I think I may need some armor against proprietors of Asian-Fusion restaurants in town. :)

[Edit: A few people have reported that they couldn’t find the article. I clicked the link just now and it was there, but just in case I’ve reproduced it here, without the nice photo. Do keep in mind that the original article was written in early 2007, so places may or may not still be open (though I think most of the places listed are as of early 2008.)]

What is Zürich like in a nutshell?

Zürich is the largest city in Switzerland, and its financial center. It has the largest airport in the country as well as the largest railroad hub. Many of the infamous secretive Swiss banks have their headquarters here. To put things in perspective, the population of Switzerland is around 6 million, and 1 million of those live in the greater Zürich area.

Like most Swiss cities, Zürich is arranged around a beautiful lake (the Zürisee or Lake Zurich) and river (the Limmat). The Alps can be seen in the distance on a clear day. The streets are well paved and impeccably clean. You can sense the discreet display of wealth everywhere.

Culturally and historically, Zürich has been influenced by two things: the rather severe form of Protestantism as espoused by people like Zwingli and Calvin, and those banks. The religious influence is seen still in things like the store operating hours - just about everything closes up early on Saturdays and all day Sunday, though otherwise the city is quite liberal (it gave full legal rights to gay couples way back in 2002 for instance). And, the presence of so many underground bank vaults mean that there are no subways, just overground trams. It’s a rather no-nonsense city, which may lack some of the historical charm of the nation’s capital, Bern, or Luzern (Lucerne), which is an hour away. It’s still a quite lively city, and probably the best for really upscale shopping if that’s your thing, especially along the Bahnhofstrasse.

The flip side of those staid bankers is the large and lively student population from the University of Zürich and the Federal Institute of Technology (the ETH), Albert Einstein’s alma mater (well he didn’t graduate, but still…). Perhaps not coincidentally, Zürich is supposed to have one of the best club scenes in Europe.

What’s Swiss cuisine like in a nutshell?

You may think that Swiss cuisine means cheese, chocolate and fondue. The reality is that there is no real unifying “Swiss” cuisine - almost every Swiss speciality is specifically regional. There are many regions, so Swiss cuisine is full of variety. The mountainous topography and varied climate has meant that farming is quite small-scale compared to other countries. A lot of that is dairy production, both cows and goats, which is why there are so many different cheeses. Some areas have fruit production (apples, pears), and in some other areas, pretty decent wine is made.

All this has lead to the evolution of a to a relatively hearty peasant-type cuisine, based on dairy, some meat, potatoes, and whatever is in season. Another factor that has influenced Swiss cuisine is Switzerland’s unique position on the map of Europe. A lot of ancient trade routes from south to north passed through the Alps, so the local food supply was enlivened by the addition of various imported foods because of the traditional trade routes through the alps, which got people in contact with all kind of “exotic” products, especially expensive spices like pepper and cinnamon.

What’s the current food trend in Zürich?

Zürich is relatively small but very international city. That means you can get almost anything. Looking at the new restaurant openings, the current trend is towards “Asian” in general, with “Spanish” not far behind.

What local food is not to be missed?

Whenever they come to Zürich, many of our North American friends stop for a “sausage fix”. The variety and quality of sausages here is terrific. In most places where the sausage culture is celebrated, they are served with “Rösti”, the quintessential Swiss potato pancake, or “Spaetzli”, small dumplings. Local freshwater fish like “Egli” is also popular, especially in restaurants located along the shores of the Zürisee (Lake Zurich) or a river.

Equally important, which local food might I want to steer clear of no matter how much locals insist?

I know that many people who come to Switzerland want their cheese fondue…but it’s really not a speciality of the Zürich area, and is only served in the very touristy places. Not to say that it’s bad, mind you, but there’s so much else to fatten you up.

Since regional cuisine has peasant roots you might find some of it very caloric, such as Zürigschnätzlets, which is veal, kidney and mushrooms in a wine-cream sauce. Speaking of offal, many people have problems with Kutteln (tripe).

Also, this is a personal bias of mine, but so far I have been very underwhelmed by all of the trendy Asian-Fusion type of places that are popping up like mushrooms after a rainstorm all over town. Often these places sport sleek modern Asianesque interiors and serve a mishmash of cuisines from ‘exotic Asia’ - so you have Pad Thai and udon noodles and sushi and egg rolls all on the same menu. The better Asian restaurants tend to be small and plain, but they are at least more authentic - and, usually serve just one kind of Asian cuisine.

What are the food oddities in Switzerland?

The oddest thing may be the language! If you’ve ever learned German in a regular German class, you can forget about trying to understand the local Schwiizerdütsch - it sounds totally different, very sing-song. Schwiizerdütsch words are sort of funny too. An example: “Mischtchratzerli” (literally translated as”manure graters” - small single-serving sized chickens, roasted or deep-fried). Even mundane foods sound different - “Patätli” are tiny new potatoes. And you thought that a potato was Kartoffel in German! There’s a lot of mixing in on French and a bit of Italian in the vernacular: for instance a chicken is never called Hähnchen as it is in Germany - it’s called Poulet, which is the French word for it. On the other hand, Switzerland has four official languages (German, French, Italian and Romansch), and many specialties simply have their name from another language region.

What delicacies should I bring home from my trip?

A lot depends on what your country allows you to import, and how long the transit time is.

A safe bet are chocolates, from the leading confectionary stores - in Zürich that would be Confiserie Sprüngli, Teuscher, and so on. If you’re on a tight budget, even a selection of inexpensive chocolate bars can be a big hit back home.
Cured meats such as Bündnerfleisch and Mostbröckli (don’t be scared when they tell you it is made from horse; it is, in really most cases, beef) are interesting.
And, of course the famous cheeses, such as Gruyère (go for the really old one, being in the cellar for 12, 18, or even more months), Tête de moine (and get the scraping tool, called Girolle with it, particularly if you come to Switzerland repeatedly), or any kind of mountain cheese. The markets sometimes have a stand selling cheeses from the Zürich Oberland - locally produced small-farm cheeses that you definitely won’t see outside of Switzerland.
Something you don’t see much outside of Switzerland are its wines. Look for wines from the Valais, which are usually a good bet.

Which cuisine features most strongly?

Zürich is very international, and you can find more or less anything. There may be more Italian places than other kinds of cuisine, but I don’t think any one cuisine dominates.

Favourite gourmet addresses?

BUDGET:

Sausage stands, particularly if they grill them on the spot. The Vordere Sternen at the Bellevue is said to have the best Bratwurst in town, but there are plenty of other good sausage stands. (If you get a veal bratwurst, skip the mustard, which will overwhelm its delicate flavor.) In the colder months you can also find hot roasted chestnut stands (Heisse Marroni) all over town, and crepe stands in the Altstadt (old city). Don’t miss the Glühwein around Christmas time. For a sit-down meal, the Mensa of the ETH (Federal Institute of Technology), which is budget (although a bit more expensive for guests than for students, but the quality is better than the reputation). If you are a student, keep your student ID ready to show; you might get the student price, but don’t insist. The Mensa also features a fabulous view of the city from the Polyterrasse. Another interesting and not that expensive experience would be the Lunch-Schiff, the lunch cruise on a Lake Zurich boat. And for the Apero, between work and dinner, have a beer at the Bauschänzli. Americans dying for a fast food fix might find the Swiss McDonald’s fun - they have sandwich combos that you don’t get in the U.S. - though at much higher prices. Another useful thing to know is that Zürich has many public fountains, and essentially all of them (except the ones with a sign “Kein Trinkwasser” or the international icon for non-potable water) run top quality drinking water.

AFFORDABLE:

Always look for the Tagesmenu (you never see it called Tagesteller here, in spite of what the guidebooks say) - this is the prix fixe daily special, and is usually a good deal. You can get a reasonably inexpensive meal at typical Italian places - remember, southern Switzerland is very Italian, so it’s almost regional. You will find such places along the Langstrasse, or in the Aussersihl area, but they are spread all over the town. If it looks like a “Mamma and Pappa place”, and the menu is relatively small, try it… you may have discovered something interesting.

We have a few pizzerias which we frequent regularly: the Vorbahnhof just besides the main station, at the Sihlquai tram stop, and the Molino at the Stauffacher. Swiss-Italian pizzas are large, very thin and are eaten with a knife and fork, never with your fingers. (Tangentially, the Pizza Hut near the main station went out of business last year…I don’t think those thick greasy pizzas did much for the locals.)

Zürich has the oldest continuously operating vegetarian restaurant in Europe, Hiltl. It’s been in business since 1898. The takeaway is good for an inexpensive picnic lunch, and the sit-down restaurant is pretty reasonable if you choose well from the buffet.

With visitors, we often go to the Zeughauskeller or the Bierhalle Kropf, just at the Paradeplatz - both traditional Wurst (sausage) and Potato type places with a civilized beer hall-type atmosphere. They are both very popular with locals, especially businessmen, as well as tourists. They are packed at lunch, but since they are big places you can usually get in.

Another great Zürich institution is the upstairs café at Confiserie Sprüngli on Paradeplatz. The pastries are to die for, though another interesting thing to try is the cream and berry-filled Birchermuesli, a great favorite with older ladies for a light lunch.

Two non-traditional places we go to quite a lot are King Kurry, a small Indian place at Bahnhof Wiedikon, and The Outback Lounge (which has nothing whatsoever to do with the American Outback chain), an Australian food place (kangaroo, ostrich, crocodile) with good people-watching. The pickup action around the bar on weekends is quite amusing. Zürich also has a lot of attractive cafés to while away your time in, just like any civilized European city. (There are also a couple of Starbucks, if you really must.)

BREAK THE BANK:

The number 1 place in Zürich is actually outside of the city limits: Petermann’s Kunststuben in Zollikon. Within the city limits, just at the border of the old town is the Florhof. See here for more suggestions and addresses. And, for a very unusual dining experience (in total darkness) there is the Restaurant Blinde Kuh (see full review and report).

What’s Zürich’s attitude to food in general?

Until not that long ago, Zürich was rather boring restaurant-wise. Some people might say it’s still boring, and perhaps compared to major gourmet capitals like Paris, Milan or London it may be. Things are slowly evolving however, and becoming a lot more diverse. A decade or so ago when I first started visiting Switzerland you couldn’t even find things like fresh ginger in the supermarkets - now you can find just about any kind of exotica you want. When people like to go out to eat it tends to be for an “occasion” - remember the Zürich is one of the most expensive cities in the world. This has meant that mid-range restaurants have suffered in terms of quality and diversity. What’s changed the restaurant scene the most perhaps is the proliferation of great clubs and bars, so you’re seeing more places that cater to the hunger needs of the club-and-bar-hopping crowd. (Unfortunately the Asian-Fusion trend is part of that but hopefully things will evolve for the better in that area.)

Where to shop for food?

Start at the many supermarkets around town - Migros and Coop are the market dominators. The quality of produce and selection at the supermarkets is quite good. Within the city, the Coop - St. Annahof store on the Bahnhofstrasse is fairly small but has a good selection of interesting things like balsamic vinegars, olive oils and wines. There’s also a Coop in the brand new mega-mall, Sihl City. Migros City at Löwenplatz is the handiest to the main station. Check out the chocolate bar shelves at both places!

If you have the chance, go to one of the open-air markets, which take place at different locations at different days. The best source to find them is on the Züritipp site, section “Ausserdem”, then look for “Börsen & Märkte, Lebensmittelmarkt”, for the specific day of the week. Laughing Lemon, which offers cooking and wine courses in English that get rave reviews, has a handy list of things that are in season, and listing of Zürich markets (on the sidebar there in a popup window).

On the higher end are the Food Factory in the Jelmoli department store, and the food department in the Globus (Löwenplatz and Bellevue). Pricey, but quite interesting to browse at least.

For a “old time shopping experience” go to Schwarzenbach at the Oberdorfstrasse in the old town. And, you can’t miss a trip to a Confiserie Sprüngli store for chocolates and other goodies. (I much prefer Sprüngli to the more internationally known Teuscher.) The Paradeplatz store is the flagship (see above for the tearoom), but there are smaller Sprünglis dotted around the city, including two conveniently positioned for last-minute shopping in the airport. I am very partial to their savory “Apero” nibbles, made from deliciously buttery pastry, that are quite ruinous to the waistline.

An in-depth review of Confiserie Sprüngli.
See my Food Destinations: Zürich guide for more.

Which area is best for food?

There are restaurants all over the city. A concentration is in the old town, on the right bank, along the Limmatquai and up into the hill. In the warmer months, most places along the Limmatquai have tables outside, and having a coffee in the afternoon, watching people, is someting you shouldn’t miss. Another concentration is Wiedikon/Aussersihl, and on the other side of the railway, the Industriequartier and Zürich West, a very trendy area with theaters and lots of clubs. Finally the Seefeld area is another center for restaurants.

What’s the biggest flop and best avoided?

As always, chain places, particularly if they are “international” should raise some suspicion. See my notes above about Asian-Fusion places.

What are the big names in the restaurant scene?

Horst Petermann has already been mentioned. An “institution” is the Kronenhalle at the Bellevue (don’t forget the Bar there), or the Oepfelchammer in the old town.

What are the most reliable restaurant guides for your area?

All of the guides below are in German…so far we haven’t found any good English language restaurant guides. You can also try asking in the usually helpful English Forum Switzerland, where many expats hang out. * Zueritipp - an online guide with a sort of young-ish focus * Neue Zürcher Zeitung, then click on “Restaurantführer”. The NZZ is the leading newspaper in Zürich * On paper: “Zürich zum Essen gern”, published by Orell Füssli * On paper: “Zürich geht aus!”, Edition Überblick; looks like a magazine, and is available at many newsstands

What to be aware of when dining out in Zürich?

Not much is cheap in Zürich. However, remember that the prices you see in the menu are what you actually pay. Tipping is not needed, although many people leave the change to the next franc, or five or ten, depending on the tab. Many places close the kitchen at 22:00, and close down at midnight. There are some which are upen until 2, and a few until 4. And, as everywhere, make reservations in the “better” places. Seafood (not counting local freshwater fish) is generally very expensive and not worth the price.

Encore Provence

maki — Tue, 27 Mar 2007 16:04:26 +0200

Speaking of travel…we’ve paid in our house-rental deposits now, so once again we are going to be spending the better part of a month of our summer in Provence. We’ve been there at least once a year for the last few years, and no matter where else we go I just have to go there or I don’t feel my year has been complete. Last year we even went twice, for a total of six weeks. (Thank goodness for broadband or our clients would just fire our asses. :) ) I’m not sure we can manage that again this year but at least I will have my Provence fix.

To see my way of experiencing Provence, start with A Food Lover’s Way of Exploring Provence. This year I plan to do a bit more around the coastal area to the east of Marseilles - I fell in love with the small resort town of Cassis in November, and want to see it in its summer glory. Otherwise it’s going to be markets, vineyards, and as many visits as we can squeeze in to my favorite bakery in the world. Ah, heaven.

Are you making your summer travel plans already? Where are you going? Do you let your tastebuds and stomach guide where you go as much as I do?

Two food travel related links

maki — Tue, 27 Mar 2007 15:33:00 +0200

People email me about their food sites and blogs all the time. I don’t mention those that I don’t find interesting or think would interest any Just Hungry readers, but here are a couple that came in recently that did catch my eye.

Foodtripper is a new site that reviews restaurants and food shops. What makes it stand out in this very crowded category is that they seem to have a European outlook on things, that aren’t limited to the usual places. I found several unusual and intriguing places listed, such as a restaurant in Pompeii that takes its inspiration from ancient Roman cuisine (though hopefully they don’t have authentic garum) and a chestnut factory in southwestern France.
If you’re visiting a major food-obsessed city where you don’t know anyone, finding your way around can be a bit daunting. A culinary tour may be one way to get your bearings. Zerve.com offers walking and noshing tours of New York, San Francisco, Boston, Chicago and New Orleans. If anyone’s gone on one of their tours I’d be interested to hear your impressions.