If maintaining a proper diary was within my abilities today’s entry would be large. A gorgeous grapefruit and orange ice-cream on the Pont de la Machine that melted quicker than I could gobble, left sticky hands for the remainder of the day. A beer in the old town market place (Place du Burg-de-Four) was both reviving and more alcoholic than I realised. A contemplative moment in the cathedral, designer window-shopping along the boulevards followed by a relaxing boat cruise across Lake Geneva.
The Hotel Rotary is hosting a function of some-kind; I spy a rather forward chaffinch attempting to make good with a tempting canapé…
As the restaurant fills, more life and multi-language chatter enlivens the atmosphere. An olive decides I should stay put. Another glass of champagne may persuade otherwise. I wonder if they have noticed my glass is empty?
Postcards completed, olive bowl depleted, chalice emptied – with no offer of a re-fill. I have just taken my 57th photo of the day. (Which turns out to be rubbish and not worth keeping).
I catch the waiters eye – I smirk over a juvenile joke about how careless he must have been to drop it – and a second glass of Pommery and a menu appear. The ‘discovery’ menu is in English. Explanations suggest that the red meat is Swiss in origin, the lamb from the UK and the poultry from France. The chef is French, not Swiss, which is a shame as I was hoping to enjoy something typically local – but then we are but a stones spit from France…
The list has 13 wines from across Switzerland. Local wins with a Chardonnay de Choully Le Cret, 2006, from Geneva (CHF41) and I pick a Salad of Green Asparagus with Orange Frothy Mousse (CHF28) as the starter. Poached Supreme of Chicken with Creamed Tagliatelle as the main, and to conclude, a plate of local cheeses – yep, cheese instead of the ‘Melt-in-the-mouth Chocolate Cake Served with Vanilla Milk-Shake’.
The Chard. Is rather tasty – a little bottle age, a touch of creaminess, toasty, nice weight, a savoury touch, but also a green bean edge. Hoping this will match well with the asparagus and pick up the herbs from the chicken.
Yeh, I know. One bottle of wine for one on top of two glasses of champagne and the lunch-time beer and I haven’t had a rum and coke yet!
I decide to remain outside. The running water in the pool to my left is quite soothing and relaxing although that could be the combination of champagne and evening warmth. The light is better too for taking pictures of the food.
The asparagus salad arrives, beautifully presented, and damn tasty too. Substantial enough for lunch. The mousse was a little runny and more like a mayonnaise though. Asparagus is a tricky thing to match with wine and my choice didn’t quite go…
No hanging around for the chicken. The pasta stole the show. Presented in a little cast iron pot with a lid, it is perfectly cooked with just the right level of creamy sauce. A simple thing is cooked pasta but so easy to result in something claggy, this is just perfect. So good I could eat it without the chicken.
Oh, that chaffinch has just launched itself at my bread basket…
A breather then the cheeses. Five arrive of perfect ‘edibility’; sadly it wasn’t explained which was which – but then I would have had to have recorded each and noted where they were from etc. What waiter has time or inclination to play ball with that?
I finish. Before that rum and coke a little walk down to the shore. Feeling more than a little full and slightly squiffy. No surprises there.
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