If you live in one place long enough, you eventually develop a taste for local foods and drinks.

I distinctly remember the first time I tried Rivella. (more…)

You know the whole Easter chocolate bunny thing has gotten out of control when you’re considering buying one for your six-month-old baby who doesn’t even eat solids yet.

“We need to get Baby M an Easter basket,” said my husband a couple of days ago. (more…)

One-third Appenzeller. One-third Comté. And one-third Gruyère. Plus garlic and white wine.

That’s my husband’s favourite fondue mix and it is delicious. But, when we had it for the third time in one week, I knew that we had gone too far. (more…)

One cannot help but think that if the Latin influence were not so strong in Geneva, Christmas might not be such a jolly affair in the city.

Geneva is, willy-nilly, steeped in some Calvinist juices, however. So it is hardly surprising to find that when celebrating such a pagan-tinged, heretical feast as Christmas, the smoked salmon, foix gras, oysters, calorie-laden bûches (the French pastry Yule log) and bubbly are accompanied by something a little thorny, something you have to work hard for to reap the rewards.

(more…)

A few weeks ago, I received a call from a fellow from some logistics company I had never heard of.

He wanted the code to my front door to deposit a package in the mailbox. The block of flats I live in has had a few burglaries in recent months, and this sounded like one of those old-as-the-hills tricks. (more…)

One of the first things that struck me about Switzerland was the vegetable gardens.

Whether in village gardens or allotments, they’re an art form: ordered rows of perfectly spaced tomatoes, potatoes, and leeks interspersed with equally ordered rows of sunflowers, gladioli and dahlias. (more…)