Hot cheese

Having waited an age for our obviously unoccupied table, which I had dutifully booked well in advance as is the Swiss way, we couldn't understand why the man who greeted us at La Barillette wouldn't let us sit down. It was only when a try-your-luck foursome tried to snaffle it that we had to jump in and claim it.

Then they wouldn't give us any menus so I grabbed them myself. Now we were getting somewhere.

We grabbed the attention of one of the four serving men (what had they done with the women, I wonder?) but just as we were gearing up to give him our order, oh no, something else caught his attention and he wandered off to the other side of the terrace with not so much as a backward glance or a reassuring "j'arrive". Fortunately one of his colleagues saw our hunger-pained faces and took over.

At last we were able to savour the spectacle of the Alpine panorama, which draws hikers, cyclists and petrolheads (the road up there is very bendy) in equal number to this lofty Jura spot.

The fact that it is only open in summer is slightly at odds with the hearty menu, which is a feast of fondue, steak, sausages and the like, albeit wth a salad and a charcuterie platter thrown in. Despite the 30° heat, Monsieur Gourmand helped my mother devour a fondue (it's not often she gets the chance) and by all accounts it was most enjoyable. My stepfather and I had viande sechée and a green salad each, which would have been easily big enough to share. All very well if you've cycled 12 km uphill but I felt a bit guilty eating so much having whizzed up here on petrol power alone.

Yes, the service is excruciatingly slow and it's a tough place to reach without a car, but we should be grateful I suppose that views like this can be enjoyed somewhere rustic and relaxed rather than overpriced and pretentious.

Restaurant La Barillette, Route de la Dôle, CH-1276 Gingins
+41 (0)22 360 12 33; www.restaurant-barillette.ch
 

Full-whack fungi

At the end of 2011, jaded by the bright lights of the scintillating metropolis that is Geneva, Monsieur Gourmand and I decamped to Canton Vaud. While this means a month's worth of form filling and jumping through hoops, higher rent payments and a silly weekday commute, it is balanced out by a breathtaking view (no hyperbole here — we can see Geneva, Lausanne, the lake and Mont Blanc from our living room) and, equally importantly, a fair few village auberges to discover.

Unperturbed by the landlady's straggly hairstyle, we felt we should try our local Auberge de Trélex before any others. What's more, we can walk there so there's no holding back on the wine.

More popular with long-time villagers than international types, the auberge's other diners eyed our city folk suits and suede boots with suspicion as we took in our surroundings. With not an antler, corn dolly or candle in sight, the interior has a charmless train-like quality, the tables arranged along the sides of the room and handy plug sockets in the walls, should you feel like writing an email mid-steak.

We placed our orders with the world-weary waitress, Monsieur Gourmand choosing a deliciously winey fondue with soft brownish bread, while I knew right away that I fancied a fillet steak. Asked if I wanted a sauce, I thought yes, a creamy sauce de morilles would be just lovely. I must admit, the steak was very tender and tasty, and it seemed such good value at only 35 Francs (the grumpy hag had failed to mention the sauce would cost another nine on top).

Convenient it may be and the food is not bad, but the saucy rip-off and less than warm welcome won't keep us coming back.

Auberge de Trélex, Place de la Tour 4, 1270 Trélex, Vaud
+41 (0)22 369 2355; www.aubergedetrelex.ch

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

Cheesy feast

Cruising along Miami's Biscayne Boulevard with the top down, 80s power ballads screeching from the stereo, Monsieur Gourmand and I passed the Melting Pot, part of a US chain of fondue restaurants. Needless to say, we didn't stop (the weather was a bit on the warm side for bubbling hot cheese, and fiendish food is rather less appealing when you have to wear a bikini the next day. Oh, and we live in Switzerland where fondue restaurants are two a penny.)

A long-established fondue favourite of ours is Café Bon Vin. Dating back to 1900, the original owners have long since died and been replaced by Portuguese proprietors, but you wouldn't know it; the Swiss spirit is very much alive in the vintage alpine posters on the walls, a black lollipop sign from the dreaded Mur Suisse mogul field, creaky wood banquettes and a strong stench of cheese.

I'm sure they have other things on the menu but Monsieur Gourmand and I never look beyond the viandes sechées, served on a wooden platter with pickled onions and cornichons (one of the first French words I learned thanks to the unfortunately named Mr and Mrs Gherkin in my primary school text book) followed by fondue moitié-moitié.

A little pepper is all that’s needed to perk up the pot of lava-like deliciousness before immersing the bite-sized chunks of crusty bread. The first feelings of fullness come about two thirds of the way through, but there is no stopping the addictive cheese frenzy – come to think of it, I'm sure I’ve never seen an unfinished fondue.

Not normally one for desserts, Monsieur Gourmand has a particular liking for Café Bon Vin’s raspberries, of course accompanied by a pot of Gruyère cream (as if we hadn’t already overdosed on dairy). With our Miami jaunt a distant memory and no holidays on the horizon, at least my bikini body can stay under wraps for a few months yet.

Café Bon-Vin, 17 rue Versonnex, 1207 Geneva

+41 (0)22 736 8790