I Blame the Cows…

I’ve been away, and internet-challenged to boot! Now back from Italy and a brief stop in Switzerland — much more on Italy very soon. First I must pay homage to the cows of Lauterbrunnen, with their big, noisy bells that would blend perfectly with a yodel here and there. This was the land of artisanal cheeses, a place you could go to learn cheese-making and cow herding. The grass looked so good I thought I might even eat some.

Switzerland has two well-known national dishes — fondue and rösti. These are based on their two great edibles, cheese and potatoes. I’ve known about fondue since the 70s, when the fondue craze struck American homes like an electric shock, planting thousands of fondue pots in our avocado and goldenrod kitchens. Ours was yellow, of course. We didn’t try the fondue in Switzerland because we smelled it so continually one evening while we waited for a table at a popular restaurant that we felt like we’d actually eaten it.

No, it was rösti that I was unfamiliar with, but I now know that it is a variation on hash browns, or latkes, or other such potato dishes.

Rösti is grated potato, and the Swiss potatoes are very good. I know this because potatoes accompany just about every meal, sometimes combined with…cheese! Season the grated potato, shape it into a very buttery pan and fry it up. Very easy, very filling. The Husband ordered his with a curry flavor, which was not a great choice. Mine had bacon and cheese, and I plowed through about half of it. It was comfort food on steroids, and I’ll be making it here very soon.

Back to cows. These Swiss cows are very happy and well cared-for. They spend all summer in the spectacular foothills of the Alps, eating clover and basking in the sun. And all that goodness yields a field of dairy products that has all that flavors of pure joy. Nutty, tangy gruyeres and emmenthalers, mellow yogurt, achingly fresh milk and butter. It’s a well-protected industry there, family-owned and carefully managed.

Our favorite meal in Switzerland was a hunk of bread with several local cheeses which we cut up with — what else? — a Swiss Army knife. But stay tuned for Italy.