Cheese and Chocolate

There are three things in Switzerland (so far) that are noticeably better than what we had in Chicago: the mountain, the chocolate, and the dairy products. I've already shown you pictures of the mountains, so we'll move on to chocolate and cheese.

Everyone says that Swiss chocolate is good, but it's hard to know what that means until you try it. It is spectacularly good. Even the cheap grocery store bar is better than much of the high-end stuff you find in the States. And when you get the really good stuff here, lordy. We bought some very expensive stuff at Blondel, a fancy place in Lausanne, for about 10.00chf / 100 grams. That's about $10 for a candy bar. But seriously, no seriously, it is totally worth it. The grilled almond bark is a revelation.

They sell chocolate here as either dark, milk, or white. They don't sell by the percent of cocoa, like in France, so the dark chocolate of varying intensities is all called "crémant." I like this better than having to choose between 65%, 75%, and 80% dark chocolate, knowing that I will almost certainly choose wrong. You just trust that the chocolate chef (chocolatier?) did it right.

And that brings us to cheese. Glorious cheese. And milk, and yogurt, and cream. The Swiss revere their cows and treat them well, pasturing them low in the winter and high in the summer, with clang-y bells around their necks so the cowherds can find them again. In return the cows give rich and flavorful milk. I've heard that the yogurt and cheeses from the summer are even better because the cows are eating high mountain grass and flowers-- I'll make sure to test that and let you know.

The difference in pungency hits you right away (and this from someone used to French cheese!). We made a gratin topped with gruyère (one of the most famous Swiss cheeses, made close to where we are living now) the other night, as we have done many times in the past. I have had Swiss gruyère before. But I suspect they make milder cheese for exportation, because our gratin au gruyère unexpectedly stunk up our apartment, forcing me to open the windows to aerate. I was nervous about trying the final product -- but it was a revelation. Stinky cheese = tasty cheese. For reals.