Greek Helvetique

In August Monsieur Gourmand and I went to Corfu. Everything was as it should be - sun-filled days spent swimming and snorkelling followed by balmy evenings guzzling retsina and tucking into grilled Greek delights - except this time something wasn't quite right.

The fish wasn't especially meaty or abundant, the grilled octopus tasted tinned at times and, on more than one occasion, the squid had a bitter, silvery paste inside that I can only assume was the remnants of entrails.    

Food being one of the key factors in my ultimate enjoyment of any holiday, I left Corfu feeling a little shortchanged. Of course, Switzerland is the last place one should go when feeling shortchanged but a month after my return to Geneva I enjoyed a Greek meal good enough to banish my holiday disappointment.

Emilios near Plainpalais offers a fine choice of healthy mezze, from fava beans and feta to tzatziki and taramosalata, as well as an excellent selection of meaty moussakas and comforting kleftikos. But on a pleasantly warm September night, nothing was going to tear me away from some grilled, succulent seafood.  

My substantial squid came whole, chargrilled and doused in herby lemon. Monsieur Gourmand was also most impressed with his two fat tentacles of octopus (to my great relief as I have come to dread his frustration after each failed attempt to cook it himself).

Emilios is only let down by its décor, which is more bingo hall than beachside taverna. Bright lights extinguish any hint of romance, the plain, practical furniture would be more at home in a motorway diner and a conspicuous lack of greenery makes the Mediterranean feel far, far away.  

Nevertheless, the food was good quality and we stuffed ourselves enough to be grateful for the walk home. 

Swiss service

Nobody tips in Switzerland because the service is generally dreadful. I think it's a chicken and egg situation - do diners not tip because the service is bad or do waiters make no effort because they know they won't be rewarded?

Anyway, it didn't really matter last Sunday because Monsieur Gourmand and I had a wonderful lunch at Lacustre in Bellevue despite waiting for what seemed like an eternity for somebody to give us a menu. The view was so glorious that I was only too happy to bask in the bright September sun, watching sailboats whizz along the lake in front of a glistening Mont Blanc.

This was our second visit to Lacustre and it was a vast improvement on the first. One dark, chilly night in early spring we had been seated next to two young couples and their whining offspring while we shared a disappointingly bland Chateaubriand served by a heavy-browed and bequiffed waiter whose apparent drunkenness rendered him incapable of remembering anything.    

Perhaps it was too early in the day for him to hit the bottle as he seemed sober and friendly on this second visit - though still painfully slow. And he wasn't the only thing to have improved - the food was delicious. Tasty and lemony perches du lac meunière were served with a filo basket full of vegetables while the rich and tangy steak tartare was a triumph of taste and presentation, topped off with a lattice of vegetables and accompanied by nutty rice. 

It goes without saying that such a backdrop demanded a cold bottle of rosé and we left feeling a little light-headed, full of food and totally in awe of our scenic surroundings.