Flawed design

Typically Italian, aesthetics are important at Olio Design. The stone arches are reminiscent of a Roman palazzo, exquisite tableware abounds and of course the food is a feast for the eyes: looking at my anchovy salad was like leaning over a river bank and peering into the fast flowing water, a shoal of silvery fish swimming amid a colourful mesh of green lettuce and reddish radishes.

Alas, it looked much better than it tasted - the anchovies were raw.

Now, I'm quite partial to a bit of ceviche or sushi, but without the strong flavour of lemon or wasabi I couldn't overpower the slimy, slippery texture which made me think of eels, and eels give me the creeps. Thank goodness for the Gavi with which I washed it down.

Why did I force myself to eat something I didn't like, you may ask. Well, partly because it cost an outrageous 30CHF which I didn't want to waste, and partly because I felt bad about offending the chef who had created the dish especially (I had chosen a hot anchovy starter with burrata but he thought I might like something lighter). Maybe the burrata had gone off. 

Whereas Monsieur Gourmand had enjoyed a peculiar but pleasing appetiser of asparagus soup and squid, it was soon his turn to taste disappointment with a plate of unexciting orecchiette with fresh mushrooms. My deliciously al dente linguine with chunky frutti di mare, however, were the perfect antidote to my hunger and I wolfed them down with abandon.

My meal continued on a yummy note - a ball of pannacotta with firm, fresh raspberries and strawberries. Limoncello on the house by way of apology for meddling with my meal was a welcome sweetener, but didn't change the fact that Olio Design is not outstanding enough to justify the high prices.

Olio Design, 59 rue du Rhone, 1204 Geneva
+41 (0)22 310 1555; oliodesignrestaurant.com

Misplaced popularity?

With the exception of the desserts, I'm slightly baffled by the popularity of Café du Soleil. I must admit, however, that this is probably my own fault for not eating what it is famous for: fondue. Like Indian food, I just can't get used to the idea of eating it for lunch - two large meals a day would turn me into Jabba the Hutt and no, I don't want to sacrifice my indulgent dinners with Monsieur Gourmand. 

My colleagues seemed very satisfied as they devoured their enormous pot of bubbling cheese. I, on the other hand, was presented with three slices of fat. My fault again for not understanding French well enough (I got the bit about veal, potatoes and spinach but missed the bit about 'gras').

But all was not lost. Still feeling peckish (having only eaten two or three tiny morsels of meat amid the fat), I guiltlessly ordered a deliciously light Flan Catalan, which I finished in a flash, particularly enjoying the slightly firmer texture on top. 

During our lunch, Café du Soleil filled up with men in suits, young families and lunching ladies, enjoying the lively atmosphere and the seemingly fantastic fondue. But I wouldn't know about that. The steaks looked tasty too...

I've obviously missed out on something special (it has survived for 400 years after all) so I'll have to come back, perhaps in the summer when I can soak up the soleil on the terrace.   

Place du Petit-Saconnex 6, 1209 Geneva
+41 (0)22 733 3417; cafedusoleil.ch

Sizzling feast

On a cold and rainy night, it was quite a relief to enter the warm woody surroundings of the Taverne du Valais with its traditional table cloths and the smoky smell of sizzling meat (even with extractors over each table, the charbonnade experience will leave you smelling like a lumberjack).

Of course, such an irresistible aroma has the side effect of intensifying hunger; poor Monsieur Gourmand was so ravenous that he resorted to sampling the collection of condiments that sat temptingly on the table. 

I tried to take his mind off his growling stomach by reading from the menu the enchanting tale of the restaurant's beginnings: once upon a time (1967, in fact) Frau Schmidt ventured down from the Valais to give the Genevois a taste of her mountain fondue. Alas, demand dried up when spring came around so she fed them traditional barbecued mountain meat instead. And I, for one, am glad that she did.

After a tasty French-style salad and some crusty brown bread, a platter of tender, lean beef arrived (we opted for beef only but bird-heavy mixes of chicken, turkey and duck are also available). After only a minute on the charbonnade the thinly sliced morsels are cooked, complete with criss cross grill pattern, ready to be savoured alone or with a dollop of Dijon, a bit of bearnaise or even chilli (for an Asian twist).

Far from being a bad thing, the distance from the city centre allows for an unpretentious atmosphere and down-to-earth service, making this an ideal destination for feasting with friends.

 La Taverne du Valais, 4 chemin des Sellières,
1219 Aïre - Le Lignon, Geneva
+41 (0)22 796 2323; taverneduvalais.ch

Battle of the boeuf

I was recently having one of those conversations about hypothetical choices you would never have to face, like would you rather be submerged in a pool of wee or be forced to eat raw eyeball of sheep? Or my all-time favourite: would you rather lose a leg or be confined to Filton Avenue for the rest of your life, with no chance of ever leaving? Admittedly, the most recent one was a little less ludicrous: if you could only eat one kind of meat for the rest of your life, what would it be?

All have their merits but for most people it would be a difficult dilemma of pork versus beef. Pork has its many fiendish forms - think crackling, sausages and bacon - but, for me, it would have to be beef. I'm not sure I could reconcile myself with the idea of never again enjoying a thick slab of sirloin, a tender fillet or even a juicy burger.

Strangely enough, I haven't cooked a single steak since moving to Geneva. Not because I'm avoiding red meat (as if) but because there are so many good steak restaurants to choose from, including a few that Monsieur Gourmand and I return to again and again.


Aside from nasty exchanges with the snooty clientele - a horrible hag once suggested to us that we *adopt French sneer* "go back to England where you came from" when we dared to ask if a heavily pregnant friend who had just nipped in to say hello could perhaps perch on the empty seat beside her - you can't go wrong at Le Relais de l’Entrecôte. Assuming you like steak, because that's all they've got.

A green salad with tasty French dressing and walnuts readies the palate before the steak is served, smothered in their famous secret sauce: a tangy green, garlicky concoction that induces daily cravings when I walk by. The chips are also amazing, so it's definitely worth the wait (they don't take reservations so go before 19.30 or after 21.30 to avoid the queue).

Le Relais de l’Entrecôte, 49 rue du Rhône, 1204 Geneva
+41 (0)22 310 6004; relaisentrecote.fr


If you can’t be bothered to wait there’s always Carnivor around the corner. It doesn’t have Entrecôte’s atmosphere (or sauce) but it’s an excellent alternative for meat eaters with substantial steaks and an inviting alternative: rôtisserie coquelet. Be sure to sit in the conservatory area – you can watch the snow falling in winter and it’s opened up in the summer.

Carnivor, 11 rue Neuve du Molard, 1204 Geneva
+41 (0)22 310 0928; carnivor.ch


My stepfather claims to have “discovered” Les Armures when he and my mother were visiting and I hadn’t booked anywhere to eat. Wary of its Old Town tourist-trap location, I didn’t have much hope for the meal ahead, but if it was good enough for Bill Clinton (a picture of the ex-President eating in this very restaurant is prominently displayed at the entrance) surely it would be good enough for me.

The overwhelming whiff of cheese seems to suggest that Les Armures does fondue first and foremost, but this belies the restaurant’s mastery of meat; the steak I ate on our last visit was so fresh and rare that it actually smelled of cow (in a good way).

Les Armures, 1 rue Puits-St-Pierre, 1204 Geneva
+41 (0)22 310 3442; hotel-les-armures.ch