When I boarded a Swiss flight to Zürich on a business-class ticket a few months ago, I expected — apart from the enhanced creature comforts — on-time performance, meticulous attention to detail and cleanliness, and some sort of design sensibility. What I wasn’t prepared for was a gourmet meal in the skies. There’s no Swiss food beyond potatoes and melted cheese, I would have scoffed before the Airbus A330-300 left the tarmac in Delhi. Now my tummy knows better.
The Delhi-Zürich flight leaves at an inconvenient 2am but arrives nine hours later at a fantastic 6.25am, allowing you a full day in the Swiss Alps if you so desire. Owing to the lateness of the hour, only a light meal is served on board and I have to say mine, while nice enough, wasn’t especially memorable. Perhaps it was just too meagre. For the culinary masterstroke, therefore, I had to wait for the journey back. The return flight leaves Zürich a little after noon and deposits you in Delhi past midnight. Reason to rejoice, actually. Because this means business class travellers get to sample — properly — the ‘Taste of Switzerland’, a rotating showcase of regional specialities, drawn from the seasonal menus of famous Swiss chefs from one impossibly beautiful Swiss canton or another. (Currently showcasing, in all classes, delicacies from Hiltl in Zürich, the oldest vegetarian restaurant in Europe.)
My meal was created by chef André Jaeger from the Hotel Fischerzunft in Schaffhausen. First course: Balik salmon tartar with cream of wasabi and balsamic onions. Main course: sea bass fillet on beluga lentil stew with carrots, served with a hoisin cream sauce. Dessert: chocolate and coffee mousse with apricots, banana pistachio compote and ginger cream. The movie snack was ice cream (Mövenpick, of course). I had had a couple of very fine meals in Switzerland by then (the sort that start off with rabbit carpaccio), and I have to say the one on board compared most favourably with them. In fact, it was one of the best Swiss meals I’ve ever eaten, if not exactly on Swiss soil.
Hell, even the potato chips were superb. In this case, thick-cut chips ‘a la moutarde de Dijon’ produced by a fifty-year-old family concern which buys their potatoes only from farmers they know personally. I know, I know, this is the sort of thing that only infrequent business class travellers get excited about. And one of the more tangible perks of flying non-cattle, apart from the lovely amenity kits (thoughtfully, different each way, one of them in a nifty aluminium box which you are encouraged to take away and reuse — not that one needed the nudge), is that you can demand as many packets as you want.