Memories of Switzerland (Patreon)

So just today I was thinking about this time, a fews years back, when I was able to visit Switzerland, which you may know as the land of chocolate and cheese. And, boy, let me tell you: That stereotype is 100% accurate. My friends know of my proclivities so the heavy European meals were something of a running joke on this trip, but toward the end of the week I think we were all sick to death of fondue. I usually try to eat healthy (shocking!) but the Swiss do not make that easy: You won’t find any dish that isn’t slathered in butter and served with a side of fried, breaded pork. Occasionally, you do see a so-called “fitness teller” (Fitness Dish) on menus in some of the more progressive restaurants, which we dumb Americans assumed must be some sort of low-fat option. It is, I guess – in the very relative sense of the word! A fitness teller was the same fried, breaded pork but instead of French fries you get a side of vegetables – vegetables fried in butter! I have no clue how the Swiss manage to stay so slim when all they eat is dairy fat, but I imagine that it has to do with the fact that they’re eating natural fats in their junkfood rather than processed, refined sugars and chemicals as we do in America. In any event, speculation on the Swiss metabolism will have to wait until another post, because I’m going to talk about Gruyiere. Gruyiere, if you don’t know it, is a small Swiss tourist trap that literally looks like you’d expect a stereotypical Swiss town to look: cobbled streets and white-washed gingerbread houses and every storefront selling gourmet cheese and rich, rich chocolate. The town is the origin of the cheese known as (of course) Gruyiere, and is also the location of a very beautiful old chateau. But I will always remember Gruyiere for the waitress at the café where we ate lunch. She was young black girl in her early 20s, I’d estimate, with long wavy hair pulled back into ponytail. She only spoke a little English but with the most darling French accent and she mentioned something about having recently emigrated from somewhere in North Africa (I admit that I’ve forgotten the specific country!). What was so wonderful about her, though, was that it was obvious that she was not used to the rich food so available in Switzerland. She was beginning to turn plump, with most of her weight concentrated in a pudgy little belly and her cute little bum. It looked like a recent gain because she wore clothes that did not hide her size at all – Her white button-down shirt was creased and her buttons strained just enough that you could catch glimpses of her soft squishy belly when she turned. Her shirt didn’t quite reach all the way down anymore and a slight roll of pudge hung out the very bottom, overlapping the waist of her tight beige trousers. I tried not to stare but it was hard to keep from glancing in her direction. Once, I caught her just as she tried, unsuccessfully, to give that too-small shirt a tug over that exposed gut. It worked for a moment but when she walked across the room, it quickly slid right backup again. Her pants looked like they were cutting into her chubby tummy – she wore trousers that hooked rather than buttoned in front, but you could still see some strain in them, especially around her fly. She still moved briskly like a slender girl, as if she wasn’t aware of her own increasing girth, which caused her buns to wobble delightfully. Oh, she was so cute! Naturally, I found her so darling that I had to leave a good tip, even though I understand that tipping is rather against the custom in Switzerland. My companions teased me about that for the rest of the trip, but I like to think that maybe, just maybe, those extra few francs helped her to buy some more chocolate. Maybe one day I'll write a story about her! :) So if you’re ever in Gruyiere, you know the real sights worth seeing.