Substantial, high-fat Swiss comfort food is crafted for mountain climbing

Four days in Lucerne didn't grant me much insight into a unique regional food culture, or even what qualifies as Swiss. Rather, I came away with the impression that it's much the same as Bavarian food. Whether that's true or not, this is a good place for fans of beer, brezel, schnitzel and the like.

This may, in part, be the fault of us eating at the same place three times over the course of the long weekend. The Rathaus Brauerei occupies the undercroft of the Lucerne's medieval town hall, with an open-sided arcade looking over the river Reuss, the Kapelbrücke and the mountain peaks ringing the lake beyond. If the weather is fine enough, there's a large area for outdoor dining on the riverfront. Even in the rain, well over a hundred people can drink and dine outside but under the arches before heading inside. The enormous size means tables somewhere are generally easy to come by.

This is a microbrewery making a range of its own beers; I happily settled on their seasonal wheat beer on my first visit and didn't waver from that pleasant discovery. The menu is reasonably priced for Lucerne, with main courses ranging from £12 to £24. You'll find a range of hearty soups, wurst, sweet mustard, sauerkraut, meat and cheese plates, sandwiches made with fresh pretzels, etc.

We encountered a similar menu, done to higher quality in a loftier setting atop Mount Pilatus. (See photo above.) Having ascended to the top of an entirely cloud-covered peak, the only logical thing to do at the summit was to enjoy a long, leisurely lunch. The Hotel Pilatus-Kulm has been catering to tourists here since 1890, and thankfully hasn't felt the need to change much. Though recently renovated, the place still feels like a grand, turn-of-the-20th-century hunting lodge, all dark wood panelling, lavish curtains, white linen, grand fireplaces and hunting trophies. The one modern concession in the Cheminée Saal where we ate, was a set of gorgeous blow-ups of photographs of Alpine flowers.

This is the place I discovered the one dish that did seem unique to the area: a barley soup called Bündner Gerstensuppe. I've never had anything like it, but will be trying recipes for it when I get home. While I had it at the Rathaus as well, it was at its best here: a rich broth made from smoked meat and vegetables, thickened with heavy cream and studded with soft, hearty pearl barley. This is the kind of fare you want while clambering around mountains. As in most areas with a big dairy industry, veal is common on all menus here. (You need to do something with those male calves, after all. No point keeping an animal that doesn't produce milk.) The Pilatus-Klum served it as a lightly cooked fillet with a creamy peppercorn sauce, accompanied by crispy fries and a pile of vegetables. Simple food, well done.

Dessert was another introduction to something authentically Swiss: Apfelchuechli. Though I've had plenty of fried apple desserts in Bavaria that are quite similar, this was a new take: whole rings of apple dipped in a donut-style batter and quickly deep fried, sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon and served hot with ice cream.

While the Apfelchuechli and Bündner Gerstensuppe are unique, one similarity to Bavaria rang through. This is not a place for light eating. 

We rolled out the red carpet at the Old Swiss House, one of Lucerne's most historic and established restaurants. I'd read about it, and when we stumbled on its unmistakable exterior ... a free-standing, half-timbered fairy tale house that looks like it served as a model for Disney's Fantasy Land ... after visiting the Löwendenkmal, I thought I'd see if they had a table free. Fate intervened. Not only was there a table, but on our way to it I noticed a prominent Anheuser-Busch logo worked into one of the restaurant's leaded windows. What was this icon of my home town doing decorating a posh restaurant in Lucerne?

Turns out Gussie Busch Jr., who was practically the sainted king of St. Louis when I was a kid, dined here in the '50s and fell in love with the daughter of the owners, one Trudy Buholzer. Their daughter ended up a few years above me at school. Clearly, coming here was pre-destined.

The interior is opulent and charmingly old fashioned. Stained glass, dark woods, flock wallpaper, collections of old silver, oil paintings in gilded frames. Several dishes are finished beside the table with great fanfare. The stairs down to the toilets are lined with photos of famous people who've dined here through the decades. Waitresses wear dirndls, men ties. Prices are commensurate with the atmosphere.

We started with Alpine cheese croquettes. More hearty, deep-fried mountain food ... wicked, delicious peasant fare elevated to haute cuisine with a delicate touch, nice plating and posh surroundings. And then more veal. Wiener schnitzel is the speciality and the Old Swiss House produced the best I've ever had. Probably because of the crazy amount of butter involved. We could study the process as our waitress prepared it in front of us. 

Thinly-pounded veal dipped in egg, then in fine white breadcrumbs. I'd guess 230 grams of butter went into the pan for a single piece of veal. She put the meat in when the butter was melted but not brown, then left it to bubble on a medium heat for about 4 minutes before flipping. When she flipped she also dredged all the eggy clumps of bread crumbs from the tray she'd used to coat the veal, and threw those into the bubbling butter. The fried bits and the now-brown butter became the sauce for an elegantly twirled skewer of fettucini. There were vegetables involved somewhere on the side, but they were clearly an afterthought. 

When it comes to desert, they make a big deal about their chocolate mousse and it is excellent. Quenelled with great fanfare out of a silver dish brought from the kitchen, it's very dark and far less sweet than the usual interpretation. The mound of freshly-whipped mountain cream it comes with is necessary to cut the bitterness; the combination is divine. My father opted for a vodka and prosecco-spiked lemon sherbet, probably a more fitting end to an already rich meal. 

At both the Old Swiss House and the Pilatus-Klum, local white wines were a pleasant surprise. Germanic countries rarely get the attention their wines deserve, and I don't think I've ever seen Swiss wines outside of Switzerland. Perhaps they don't travel well. Or maybe they just want to keep their limited production for themselves. But should you ever see either the Cuvée Hellgelb mix of Müller-Thurgau and Pinot Noir or Schloss Heidegg's Riesling/Sylvaner mix, I can promise you full-bodied, straw-yellow wines with both the richness and acidity to stand up to rich, fried food. 

I've picked out three traditional restaurants here, from moderately priced to special treat territory. But this is by no means the dominant cuisine in Lucerne. Food-wise, this is an international city. My impression was of far more foreign restaurants than Swiss-German. Italian seemed to predominate, from high-end restaurants to snack bars. We spotted American burger joints, international haut cuisine, kebab shops and all variations on Asian. Our other meals featured pizza, an antipasti buffet and sushi. All were fine, but undistinguished from similar fare anywhere else. While I may not have been there long enough to get a full grasp of Swiss cuisine, the local certainly beat out the imports in our explorations.