Culinary Memories
In this very personal text, I am kicking off a recurring format in a biannual print magazine. It's about my culinary memories from Barunwald, a mountain village in Switzerland. Although this text was published in German, I have translated it into English for this website. I am aware that some terms are very specific to this mountain region, I have tried to bring a bit of clarity in brackets.
When I think of Braunwald, my first attempts at skiing come to mind, but also hikes to the little frogs at Oberblegisee, writing weeks, book boxes and, above all, good food. This is undoubtedly also due to the fact that good food is celebrated in our family, but the repertoire changes when I visit my parents here in the holiday home compared to when I visit them in the city. Honey treats are dunked in the Earl Grey tea, Magäträs (spiced sugar) is sprinkled on the morning coffee, and a piece of “Chrüterchäs, weisch din Lieblings vo de Rebecca” (‘Herbcheese, you know your favourite from Rebecca’) is certainly also in the fridge. What happens when I think about Braunwald and food? ‘Culinary Memories’ were created for this issue, which will be expanded into ‘Culinary Notes from the Region’ in future issues.
Over the last few years, I have learnt to appreciate Braunwald as a home office location. In the quiet hours of the off-season, the words flow onto the paper, and I feel embraced by the mountain world. I always have a book with me, which I sit with on the terrace or beside the fireplace. I alternately immerse myself in the mountain world and then in the lines again. This time, it's ‘Small Fires’ by Rebecca May Johnson. Her debut novel places the countless repetitions of a pasta pomodoro recipe in dialogue with a contemporary rewriting of the Odyssey and Penelope's iterative (un)weaving. The cooking of the recipe is interwoven with the strands of the apron, social conventions and relationships; for me, it is the visits to Braunwald with food, their stories, people and memories.
Braunwald brings me flavours, and flavours bring me to Braunwald. The blueberries are ripe; I come to the mountains for a weekend. The repetitive picking grounds me and brings me back to the here and now, away from my computer. When I come up the stairs, the familiar scent of warmth, wood and fresh pastries wafts towards me. It reminds me of the cosy atmosphere and sense of security that only kitchens can give you, as Banana Yoshimoto describes so wonderfully and comfortingly in her novel ‘Kitchen’. When everyone comes together in the kitchen under my mum's guidance, new fragrances weave into our memories, telling stories and creating individual moments in the now. After dinner, my father and I leave the warmth once again. Our destination is the fridge at Braunwaldalp (an alpine pasture above the village). In the twilight, we have intense conversations.
And then, of course, there's the ‘Tante Erika shop’. Slightly bigger than my first shared flat and just as full of expectations and life. You can get everything; I no longer have to carry my beloved oat milk up the mountain. You could read about the new owners in the last issue. While this place has survived the generations, the ‘Vierteiler’-bread from the beaker ‘Gut’ has only survived in my memories. And while I mourn it, I awaken my sourdough starter from its slumber and use the time between the lines to feel food. The ingredients in the Rössler dough bowl, kneading, waiting, folding, waiting, baking, smelling. Spread with blueberry jam made from wild blueberries and Magäträs. Unlike Rebecca May Johnson, you don't have to wait until the end of the text for the long-awaited pasta recipe; I leave the blueberries entirely to your creativity in the kitchen.
For me, food and Braunwald are interwoven in countless ways, no longer distinguishable, entangled into a whole. Some of the memories described are still integral to my visits to Braunwald today; others have disappeared over time, making room for something new - the memories remain. Who is behind these memories in the here and now? How are our lives intertwined? I want to explore these questions in subsequent issues of the VAL-Info magazine under the heading ‘Culinary Notes from the Region’. In doing so, I will discover and portray various food-related topics in Braunwald. Do you know local aspects of food in the tension between tradition and the present, simple and genuine? Then write to me. I look forward to hearing from you.