momentary chaos

Today, right as lunchtime hit, my boss wanted me to make mulled white wine for an evening banquet celebrating the close of the golfing season. This all would be simple enough, if he hadn't just handed me a handwritten photocopied recipe (in German, of course) and pointed to the kitchen and said to ask Urs (the head kitchen chef) if I didn't know where something was.

I don't know where anything is in the kitchen.

and that is only the slightest exaggeration.

I didn't know:

a) what ingredients I needed (because I haven't had a lot of use for the German word for "cloves" up to this point).

b) where to find any of the ingredients - in the cellar, in the kitchen, near the stove, near the kalte kuche...

c) where to find a pot, or which type of pot to use (fortunately, my boss became impatient and grabbed a pot himself and stuck it on a hotplate, but then one of the kitchen-folk stuck a magnet to the pot and established that it couldn't be used on that hotplate, so while I was rushing around trying to get a liter of water, the pot or the hotplate, or both, got switched).

d) where to find measuring utensils, a stirring spoon, or a funnel.

So basically, I was a minor nuisance in the kitchen for 10 or 15 minutes, until the wine was happily mulling (in the appropriate pot, on the appropriate hotplate). At which point, Darco, who was trying to flatten veal for cordon bleu beside my brewing concoction, said, "I'm already drunk from the fumes."

I'm bringing the recipe home. Sweet, sweet success!

why not? it's Tuesday.

So I hopped a 2-hr train (or rather 4 trains and 1 bus) to Wasserauen in the Appenzellerland to go hiking today. And it was worth every minute of the trip.

Yeah, I'm wearing a T-shirt. It was probably 60 or 65-degrees, even at elevation (while at one point I lost the trail in the snow). Meanwhile, in my backpack I had a thermal, down vest, fleece, rain shell, hat, and gloves. Probably the most prepared for cold weather I have ever been on a day hike. I ended up needing the layers while waiting for my train back to Zurich.

This is a prehistoric cave, which has been excavated. Apparently the stone age Swiss hunted brown bears. There was an education display in the reconstructed hermit's hut on the other side of the cave, but since it was all in German, and I was more focused on the scenery, I really don't know all the details.
This is the view looking back at the famous pastoral lands of Appenzellerland. I was reading on a bench as a farmer fertilized nearby, and I can tell you, that greenery comes at a "fragrant" price.

Yeah, I'm still here

Okay, so I'm experiencing the 1.5 month hump, as it seems to be known by world travelers and expats (or at least among my friends) - that time, when back in the States, friends and family are enjoying the all-American aspects of fall: the World Series, football, spectacularly-colored leaves, and of course, Halloween - and I'm, at various moments, wishing I could be partaking in those experiences.

But, I do have a number of minute updates, which are, perhaps, worthy of note:

1. I received a Swiss social security card. While handing me the envelope, my boss explained that once I turn 65 I'll be "rolling in the dough" (okay, he didn't phrase it quite like that).

2. I have a Swiss bank account. Yeah, I know! And it's with UBS... which I initially chose because I was thinking, "Hey, we have UBS in the States, maybe I could just put money in as CHF and withdraw it in the US as American dollars!" When I explained this idea to the woman setting up my account, she tried, tactfully, to say that there are laws against that. OH, right. Like the billions of dollars that UBS is paying the US govt. for acting as a tax haven... Oops.

3. I have a nemesis. She is one of the Fraus at the restaurant and she is known by all of my colleagues of comparable age as the "hexe" or witch. Even before I knew they called her that, I actually could hear the theme song of the "wicked witch of the west" from the Wizard of Oz play in my head whenever she arrived. I told this to the other Diana and she looked it up on youtube and agreed. It's not like this woman is a bad person, she's just past due for retirement and insists on antagonizing everyone and treating me as though I am a complete idiot. She also does the flower arrangements for the restaurant every Monday, so I try to compliment her on those - unless of course she is sweetly telling me to set the tables for the personnel dinner 1.5 hours in advance.

a real weekend?

I went out both Friday and Saturday nights.

(I slept for 11 hours on Sunday night)

And all day Monday.

Maybe I have a social life?

I also discovered a veggie peeler in the personnel house kitchen - Hello, carrots!

Tonight I'm going to Zurich to meet English-speakers from the English-speaking forum... I know, it seems like a cultural cop-out, but I speak Swiss German at work and I spent all of yesterday speaking Swiss German, and today I was basically a slug (I watched a documentary about Le Mans - the car race - and enjoyed it; I fell asleep reading Tolstoy).

We shall see if I'm capable of normal English-language conversation at this point.

This is what globalization looks like:

In a restaurant in Switzerland, where veal and salmon are regularly served for the personnel meals (with reactions ranging from apathetic to disgust - apparently everyone except me hates fish), near chaos broke out today when the kitchen staff unveiled our lunch of... wait for it...

chicken nuggets and french fries.

Apparently, all they really want is every meal to be like McDonald's (and they gleefully told me, innumerable times, that, "hey, it's like McDonald's!"). I didn't have the heart to tell them that in the States, I haven't eaten at a McDonald's since I was probably 6. I did refuse to dip my chicken nuggets into mayonnaise - standards, people, standards!

pictures

Here are a few pictures I took today from Uetliburg - sweeping views of Zurich.

My dad and uncle eating at the ubiquitous "bites" restaurants along a trail in the Jura.

The cows which provide a soundtrack for my life - literally 50m. from my window.

Above is the view of Dübendorf from the ruins; below, left is the interior of my gigantic room; right is the picture I took of the Waldmannsburg (from the window of my room) the afternoon I arrived - Swiss flag waving in the breeze!

Okay, most of those were long overdue.

I have Swiss stuff that I could write about, but instead, I'm mostly concerned with my love for dogs. Dogs are permitted in the restaurant and on Sunday, a huge, adorable golden retriever came in (with owners, obviously), and it was all I could do to restrain myself from leaving my post and kneeling down and just rubbing that goofy-smily head.

Then, today on the train ride back from Uetliburg, a man with a large chocolate lab, wearing a brown leather collar with white crosses - for the swiss flag (not Jesus-like crosses) - sat next to me, then asked if the dog was a problem. I had been playing solitaire on my iPod, but with the arrival of a dog, electronic entertainment lost all appeal. I smiled, said, "Kein problem," and rubbed the dog's head.

On the trail from Uetliburg to the Seihlbahn, there were a number of dogs, but one non-allergenic seeming one kept circling back and trotting next to my heels. I later realized that it's owner was probably the only other female wearing shorts on the entire crowded "urban trail." Heck, it was 80 degrees! No time to worry about high fashion - or so I thought.

I also apologize for the eclectic and disjointed look of picture posts - figuring out blog logistics is sometimes not my top priority...

abend

Yesterday could have been notable for the appearance of a very small, mullet-toting boy in the kitchen. But, overshadowing that intriguing fact was the entry of myself into the world of dinner. Up until this point, my restaurant duties have ended at 6pm, safely before the onslaught of evening diners. Yet due to a last minute schedule change, since the guy who was supposed to work the drinks/buffet was moving to Zurich/had a party to attend (two separate stories I heard, the former from the guy, the latter from the dishwasher, Carlos), I found myself standing at my post beside the coffee machine, amid the candlelit dining room, greeting individuals who, it turns out, are far more adventurous in their wine selections than lunchtime customers.

This somewhat pivotal task was entrusted to me because so few reservations cluttered the carefully organized "Donnerstag, Abend" page of the scheduling book.

What I did discover, is that when the lights are dimmed, and the stress of serving is low, coworkers are much funnier and more engaging.

I also learned how to use specialty dishsoap on the filtering mechanism on the coffee machine.

And, after I finished all the requisite cleaning and polishing of the glasses, we sat down to an obligatory "afterwork drink," which, for me, due to my intense kopfschmerzen (headache), consisted of water. Forty-five minutes later, after the multi-lingual jubilation subsided somewhat, and the beers were effectively drained, we said our Tschüsses and I took ibuprofen and went to bed.