Snooty sushi

You could be forgiven for thinking ski boots were suitable attire for a restaurant on the slopes in Megeve. But you would be wrong.

Looking like drowned rats having skied in the rain all morning, we traipsed into Fingers, a fancy Japanese haunt – formerly the Auberge du Christomet – and promptly realized that we were somewhat underdressed. Particularly in comparison with the big-haired, fur-clad locals with curly tailed designer dogs in tow.

But, a paying customer is a paying customer, so the staff did their best not to recoil disapprovingly as they seated us at a grand table with ill-advised alcantara-covered chairs. Then Monsieur Gourmand unleashed a flurry of Italian which was sufficient to fully ingratiate us with the mostly Milanese waiters.

All of a sudden they were only too keen to recommend us a selection of starters, all of course at the more pricey end of the scale, but delicious nonetheless. We sampled an array of sushi, sashimi, nigiri and tempura veggies until we were almost too stuffed for mains. But that would have meant missing out on the silky smooth black cod, perfectly paired with a bottle of Chablis.

If, after a week of skiing, you find yourself looking for something other than the usual mountain fare of fondue and fillet steaks, Fingers is ideal for a final day splurge. Just be sure to wear your glitziest ski gear to stand a chance of fitting in. 

Fingers, 4775 route du Jaillet, 74120 Megève, France

0033 (0)4 50 21 11 34; www.fingersrestaurants.com

Walk to the wild side

Ever since I happily tucked into a spicy enchilada in Austin, Texas at the age of 7, I’ve been adventurous with food. Not long after that, I experimented with sucking out prawns’ brains at the home of a Chinese family friend and in my late teens I sampled spit-roasted guinea pig in Peru.

Geneva’s most interesting ethnic restaurants – serving Ethiopian, Korean and even Filipino fare – are virtually all in Pâquis, but we hardly ever go there because Monsieur Gourmand can’t face crossing the Mont Blanc bridge. It’s not far; just a boring walk. And in the winter the bitter “Bise” wind batters you every step of the way along the wobbly footpath.

But this is early September with no wind to speak of, so I seized the opportunity to suggest something other than the usual steak and frites in the Old Town. We wandered up to Kirin on rue de Neuchâtel and made ourselves comfortable at one of the pavement tables, taking in the lively atmosphere of prostitutes and Persian rug shops.

Neither of us an expert on Japanese food, we started with a fresh and filling sushi platter as well as some gyoza dumplings. Monsieur Gourmand is the doyen of dumplings and he was most impressed with these ones, which were crispy and crumbly all at once and deliciously seasoned. His main course of crispy shredded beef was sweet, but not too syrupy, and much meatier than those I’ve tried before. Geneva’s Chinese restaurants certainly have a lot to learn.

Although my Teriyaki salmon was tender and tasty, it was perhaps too safe a bet in a restaurant that clearly knows its eel from its octopus. I have since resolved to make more of an effort to test my plucky palate of old. Chilled monkey brain anyone?

 Kirin, 4 rue de Neuchâtel, Pâquis
+41 (0)22 738 1288; www.kirinsushi.com

Pricey prawns

As anyone who has been in Switzerland for any length of time will know, businesses here don’t exactly fight tooth and nail to obtain, or retain, your custom.

A friend who tried recently to make a booking at Miyako was surprised to be asked over the phone what she would be eating, to which she surmised that she might want sushi and her husband would probably fancy something sizzling from the Teppanyaki table. In that case, she was told, she had better go somewhere else (the presence of non-Teppanyaki eaters is not appreciated around the hallowed hotplate).

 

Luckily Monsieur Gourmand and I were in a decisive mood when we visited so we knew we wouldn’t fall foul of this petty policy.

Our Teppanyaki chef did a fine job of slicing and dicing, although touristy types might have been disappointed that he didn’t make a grand spectacle of his work, with knives, flames and food flying through the air.

I was surprised to hear Monsieur Gourmand order prawns (he considers them the cockroaches of the sea), but he struck gold with these fresh and juicy crustaceans, which stoked our appetites nicely for the meaty main.

Served with a side of miso soup and not-so-healthy egg fried rice, I savoured every mouthful of my perfectly rare, fat-free fillet steak. It was so tender and tasty that I could have eaten more, but it was refreshing not to feel overly stuffed, as is so often the way with European steaks slathered in buttery sauces.

With superior ingredients and skilled chefs, Miyako managed to redeem itself from my preconceived opinion (albeit with an outrageous bill). Just make sure you eat the same as whoever you’re with, or else one of you might end up stranded at the sushi bar.

Miyako, 11 rue de Chantepoulet, Geneva
+41 (0)22 738 0120; http://www.miyako.ch