Once a year my wife and I visit Switzerland where my son and his family live. It’s a very expensive country where a very basic meal for four in a restaurant can cost around ₹25,000 and a train journey of 200km around ₹10,000 per person. Of course, a part of this is because the Indian rupee has taken a deep dive against the Swiss franc, which is around ₹125 for one franc. The Euro is much cheaper at about ₹105–106 but in Switzerland you have to deal with their currency. So taking our advancing age into account as well, we have gradually reduced rushing around Europe. Instead, we stay put with the grandchildren who provide more pleasure than any glacier, mountain peak, lake, or a meadow full of cows can.
Then one day someone asked if we had been to Lucerne or, because it is in the German part of the country, Luzern. It is of very special significance in Switzerland because it’s in one of its meadows in the 13th century that the country’s democratic foundations were laid. Or so they say. We said no, we hadn’t been there and were told that we should go. So despite the searing heat we went. Switzerland, by the way, experiences major heatwaves because of its success in cleaning up the skies. There is hardly any pollution. But without any aerosol particles, the ultraviolet radiation is severe and therefore so is the heat. To top it off, air conditioners are unofficially banned in homes for environmental protection.
Anyway, we took a train to Lucerne or Luzern one very hot day. During the journey we were wondering what to do about lunch when my wife spotted an Indian name, Pranav Yogesh, who is a head chef to boot. The restaurant he was working in, Nimaya, was offering Indian food. Nimaya means gentle stream or Lord Krishna, both. So we went there.
Indian food in Switzerland isn’t in much demand. Especially South Indian food and within that Tamil food. So I told Yogesh to add thayir sadam (curd rice) to his menu but without that North Indian garnish of pomegranate. But I am told South Indian food can be found if you really look for it. There are a couple of ladies who cook it for you on order and I am sure, because there is no adulteration of the ingredients, the dishes taste far better than in India.
You normally expect head chefs to be in their late forties or fifties, if not sixties. Remember Amitabh Bachchan in Cheeni Kum? But Yogesh, who told us to call him Pranav, was half that age, just 30. How do I know? Much to my wife’s annoyance I asked him how old he was and he told me. He said he used to be the head chef at another place before coming to Lucerne. He said his intention was to provide a more experimental fare than available in traditional Indian restaurants. “Basically,” he said “we want to move away from the curry house image that Indian restaurants have.”
We asked him why he had chosen this profession and he said his grandmother played the veena at the age of 92, his mother was a bharatanatyam dancer, and his brother was a drummer who runs a music school. “Creativity can be culinary also,” he said. He was bald as an egg and again to my wife’s deep irritation I asked him why chefs preferred bald heads. “To prevent hair falling into the food,” he said. “I don’t have to wear a cap in the kitchen.” It turned out to be a splendid meal and we came away feeling very pleased, not least because the bill was so reasonable.