Early Valentine's Dinner

Last night, Peter and I had an early Valentine’s day dinner at one of the restaurants in a book “Essen gehn!“. Peter got this book as a Christmas gift from Raffinerie, a company that designed the book.

If you bring this book to the restaurant, the main course is free for the second person. The rule says that the reservation with this book is not allowed when the restaurant is fully booked. So I avoided the Valentine’s Day, which is already on busy Saturday, and chose an earlier day to be safe.

When we arrived at Alpenrose, all the tables were nearly full. Whilst many famous New Yorker restaurants are at the verge of closing down due to the recession, I realized it has not really hit Switzerland yet.

Peter ordered a glass of local red wine from Höngg that was surprising aromatic and good. For starter, Peter ordered a sample plate of Malfatti and I had Riesling soup. My soup was thick with cream and had a raw egg inside. Peter read in a newspaper before that Swiss eggs cannot be eaten raw, because they are not treated against salmonella. So I was scared. Should I cancel my order or just eat it and enjoy the evening? I chose the latter and it was all fine. In fact, I love raw eggs and always ate it in Japan. So far so good.

Between starter and main course, there was a long break. Perhaps half an hour. We talked about William Tell, a Swiss legend, because his drawings were everywhere on the wall next to us. We talked about the recession, our travel plans this year, work, etc. There are so many things that occupy my mind at the moment, and I just wanted to spit it out to P-san and share my feelings.

Our main dishes finally arrived, but  I was already stuffed at the sight of them. My gnocchi was soft and chewy, and Peter’s Hacktätschli (a chunk of ground meat) with sage and cream sauce was also simple and good. This Hacktätschli was as big as his fist… but we managed to eat them all. Our stomach could not afford an extra bite of dessert, so we left the restaurant shortly after coffee. On the way home, it was hard to keep sitting on a tram seat, because my waist line was suddenly larger than when we entered the restaurant and my jeans was squeezing my belly.