Hi, I'm Andie.
I live near the Swiss Alps, in Bern, and I love not only melting cheese, but all kinds of Swiss cooking.
"Double cheese and dripping with fat" was Sam's explanation of a true Käseschnitte.
The most beloved form, or Militärkäseschnitte, demands a waiting time of three hours. When that just won't do, try this simple baked-not-fried variant instead.
The market stalls in Bern are filled with late autumn fruit and the plums are holding court. If Zwetschgen is King, then his Queen is the tiny golden Mirabelle.
I've set my mirabelles to soak, using gin as my boozy base, and in a few weeks' time, there'll be boozy fruit for spooning over ice cream, as well as mirabelle infused gin, perfect for cocktails.
Unless you grew up in Switzerland, you probably have no idea what Schabziger is. However, if you did, you probably have only one of two reactions to it: disgust, or unbridled passion.
Schabziger is unique to Glarus, one of Switzerland's smallest cantons. It has the honour of being Switzerland's oldest protected brand and is perhaps the most polarising cheese in Switzerland's culinary canon.
One of the most beloved and versatile baked goods in Switzerland, this time with plums.
It's hard to imagine anything better than the Linzer Torte, so imagine my surprise at discovering the St Galler Klostertorte, its cousin from over the alps, made Swiss by adding, of course, chocolate.
Ah, the Berner Rose. The name of both a delicate tomato and a tart, juicy apple. Both of which would probably be delicious in a Tarte Tatin.
So, maybe you have some puff pastry kicking about. Why not make these deliciously cheesy little puff pastry parcels?
I really wanted to like tannen syrup. I had never tried it before and it's thick and amber and smells like Christmas. It seemed so alpine and wholesome that I felt sure I would love it. I spread it thickly onto a piece of Zopf, breathed deeply (O Tannenbaum!) and took a bite. It tasted like an alpine meadow in bloom. It didn't taste like Christmas at all.
So, I decided that I needed to do something else with the rest of the jar, namely granola.
The two best ways to sell dessert, a chef once told me, are to make it either nostalgic or do-it-yourself. Either something that tastes like childhood or something you have to actively do: pour something, roast a marshmallow, etc. The Coupe Dänemark hits all the buttons, and perhaps the combination of flavours, chocolate and vanilla, along with the simple act of pouring a sauce, make it the perpetual favourite it is today.
Apparently you can make anything out of cervelat, Switzerland's national sausage. Although I think its most perfect form is grilled, with mustard, I am not adverse to using it as often as possible in all manner of dishes.
Älplermagrone (or Magronä, depending on your dialect) is the Swiss version of mac and cheese.
Another great part of Swiss baking (aside from the abundance of kirsch) is that many of the recipes are by their very nature gluten free, as they rely on a base of ground nuts, rather than flour. Many are centuries old and have been tried and tested so often that they rarely go wrong. This Rüeblitorte, or carrot cake, is one such example.
Many years ago I received a compliment at a potluck dinner. 'Your carrot cake is better than my mom's.' I smiled, whispered 'thank you', and tried to avoid eye contact with the mom in question for the rest of the evening. I should have told everyone that that particular carrot cake was a pretty straightforward copy of a Canadian Living recipe, with a little bit of booze and mixed spice thrown in for colour. Oh well.
A Swiss classic, I remember my mum's Rüeblitorte (carrot cake) fondly. She never iced it, so I always felt like I could eat it for breakfast.
