There's a fly in my soup

The flies that invade our bucolic abode in the summertime are enough to send the most patient person mad. So they don't go down very well with Monsieur Gourmand. It's so bad that I can't even have a humble basil plant without it being ravaged by some miniscule marauder in a matter of hours.

I blame the cows and the corn fields.

We've been thinking about getting one of those blue electrocution devices you see in Mediterranean restaurants; it would solve our insect woes while giving us the pleasure of watching them sizzle to death. I'm guessing they don't have one of those at the Auberge de la Réunion where Monsieur Gourmand and I struggled to get through our meal such was the insect onslaught.

It might have been my soupe de poissons that initially attracted them, so fiendishly fishy it was, but after that they didn't go away. Monsieur Gourmand meanwhile had a modest mixed salad, mainly because there didn't seem to be any other starter options for less than 25 CHF, which seems a little steep for a place that hardly markets itself as super swish.

 The flies continued to attack, ticklishly landing on my hand as I sliced into my grilled entrecote, which was so perfectly proportioned and the criss-cross grill marks so straight that it looked like a cartoon steak. A bit too twee for my liking, like one of those straight GM carrots. 

As for the chips, Monsieur Gourmand thought they were like McDonalds'. I'm not sure whether that's good or bad? We skipped dessert, unable to face the sugar-fuelled fly-fest that certainly would have ensued.

The insects might not be the management's fault but the inflated prices and mediocre meal are. If those could be improved to the standard of the friendly and efficient service and the inviting front terrace, this auberge might be ripe for a return visit.

Auberge de la Réunion, Route de la Tourbière 3, 1267 Coinsins, Vaud
+41 (0)22 364 2301; www.auberge-coinsins.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

Butter rivals

Café de Paris had almost enticed us in the past but we were always put off by the nasty station location, sandwiched between a kebab shop and McDonalds. Besides, surely it's not possible that another eaterie could match the tender meat, fiendish frites and sinful green buttery sauce served at Relais de l'Entrecôte?

When we found ourselves on that side of the lake one evening recently we decided to give it a go.

It didn't start well: the salad was without walnuts and the dressing was forgettable. Then the chips arrived on their own.
But things soon started looking up as the waiter set up a stove on our table and our house wine turned out to be a whole litre. At only 35 francs, that’s a good deal (by Geneva standards anyway).

Then the platter of beef arrived, so rare it looked like it had barely touched a pan, embedded in still-solid buttery sauce. Monsieur Gourmand devoured his in a flash regardless; I was more patient, waiting for the butter to melt around my meat.

As with its Rive Gauche rival, sauce is key to Café de Paris' long-lasting success. It was delicious indeed, but not downright addictive like that at Entrecôte. That said, the prices are rather more palatable and you can eat in unhurried peace, making it more than a worthy alternative.

Café de Paris, 26 rue du Mont-Blanc, Cornavin
+41 (0)22 732 8450; www.cafe-de-paris.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

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

Plane tasty

The older I get, the more mortal I feel; I have even started feeling nervous when flying. Milling around Heathrow the other evening, I was relieved not to be boarding the flight to Auckland – which doesn’t bode well when Monsieur Gourmand and I have our hearts set on honeymooning in Bora Bora.

Such aviation anxiety is quite unexpected for someone who has always enjoyed taking to the air, whether by jumbo or gyrocopter (okay, the second one isn’t entirely true but I have been known to jump out of small planes and soar through the skies in a glider).

Perhaps my passion for planes is why I like Le Thermomètre, an unpretentious eatery in the centre of Geneva, whose decked outdoor area looks onto the window of a model shop selling everything from remote control Cessnas and Spitfires to scale model 747s and A380s. And if planes don’t float your boat, there are plenty of yachts, cars and trains to distract you from the discomfort of the plasticky chairs while you wait to be served.

Talking of trains, the restaurant’s long, narrow interior reminds me of a railway restaurant carriage, only without the Swiss mountain scenery and with the addition of over-attentive staff. Unless it’s pouring with rain or icy cold, I would stay outside.

We started by sharing some smooth and flavoursome foie gras, served with dainty toasts and a soupçon of sweet sauce on the side. This was just enough decadence to awaken my appetite for what was to follow – a deliciously rare and tender steak.

Monsieur Gourmand strayed from the menu’s mainstays of steak and perches du lac and instead went for thin slices of beef with a herby, garlicky sauce. Despite the thinness of the slices, the meat remained rare, while the sensational sauce was tangy but not overpowering. Both dishes came with Le Thermomètre’s must-have matchstick frites, and of course we quaffed a carafe of local red wine.

I can’t think of anywhere better for a bit of unpretentious mid-week eating with some people watching and plane spotting thrown in. Just be sure to sit outside.

 Le Thermomètre, 22 rue Neuve du Molard, 1204 Genève
+41 (0)22 310 2535

Chocolate salvation

Everything in my life was hunky dory until recently, when an incompetent and irresponsible person – who shall remain nameless – ruined everything.

As a so-called professional, he could have been expected to do his job properly. Surely if you’re good at one thing in life, it should be your job. It is, after all, what you spend most of your waking hours doing, and it is how you describe yourself when meeting people for the first time.

The same goes for restaurants, particularly if they claim to serve a ‘speciality’; customers expect it to be good.

I had fancied a bite at Bistrot du Boucher in Eaux-Vives for quite a while; not only is it always reassuringly full, but the bovine motif on the window and the butcher reference in the name suggest a superior steak.

The meaty theme continues inside where waiters dash from table to table in fetching cow-print ties, while a quick peer into the men’s loos reveals a fascinating photo of a bull’s testicles. (No udders in the ladies’ though, I’m afraid.)

After such a promising prelude, the tough, tasteless entrecôte came as a bit of a shock. Normally a steak needs nothing more than a little moutarde, but this one really required something more to lift the lacklustre flavour – what a shame the three bland sauces all tasted the same...

It was only when the devilish display of desserts was wheeled to our table that we realised Bistrot du Boucher’s true forte. Having shunned both the tasty-looking tarte tatin and pear pastry, Monsieur Gourmand opted for a chunk of chocolatey decadence with an intense depth of flavour and a smooth, buttery consistency. I cursed the calories in each fiendish forkful but couldn’t resist devouring more and more.

Nevertheless, despite this mouthwateringly memorable finale – not to mention unusually efficient service and apéritifs on the house – the fact remains that a delicious dessert does not a good steak make.

Bistrot du Boucher, 15 Avenue Pictet de Rochemont, 1205 Genève

022 736 5636