
Opinion
Flop Tarts – breakfast from sweet hell
by Stefanie Lechthaler
Is there actually a mulled wine police force? What is sold up and down the country as "mulled wine" at Christmas serves at most as battery acid or drain cleaner during the year.
As soon as the Advent season begins each year, event companies rub their hands together again and set up stalls in Swiss city centres with minimal effort to sell Christmas bric-a-brac, ethnochic and hot drinks to passers-by, I take the text "The magic of passing by sideways" by Max Goldt. In it, the author settles accounts with everything that is wrong with Christmas markets. In 2005, the year it was published, the Christmas market problem in Switzerland was still marginal. If we had understood the text as a prophecy back then, we could have changed something. But instead of the "Initiative against the temporary construction of Christmas markets", four years later we put the "Initiative against the construction of minarets" to the people and it was accepted. A missed opportunity.
I don't want to launch into an all-round attack on Christmas markets, but I would like to highlight mulled wine as the most consumed drink at these markets. Max Goldt writes about this:
If I only had a bad red wine, but thought it was urgently necessary to add alcohol, I would cool the wine down as much as possible. We know from Coca-Cola and some ice creams that disgusting things taste halfway tolerable if you cool them down considerably. In any case, I wouldn't heat the bad wine to reveal its inferior quality even more drastically!
This describes 99 per cent of the mulled wines bought in Switzerland. A lot has changed since 2005 when it comes to mulled wine at Christmas markets. In the wrong direction. Whereas in the past, efforts were at least made to give the bad wine its own character with its own blend of spices, citrus fruits and fruit juices, today the staff pour plastic bags of pre-mixed mulled wine into warming barrels. Zero effort, 3% alcohol content, maximum profit.
The price of a cup of coffee is regarded as an indicator of price trends in the catering industry. If the price rises by "only" 30 cents, the angry citizens go berserk in the comment columns of the free and tabloid newspapers. "Outrageous! Everything is getting more and more expensive! How am I supposed to pay that!" No one criticises the rise in the price of mulled wine. "That's outrageous! How dare you criticise the price of drinks during the festive Christmas period?" the angry citizens are probably writing. Yet prices have developed in exactly the opposite direction to quality: While an acceptable mulled wine cost around 5 francs ten years ago, today you can buy pre-mixed headache-inducer for 8 francs. Because the alcohol has already evaporated, you usually need an additive in the form of a shot of amaretto or rum. Then we're at 14 francs. Cheeky. Instead of coffee, I suggest mulled wine as a measure of inflation in Switzerland. Not even health insurance premiums are rising at a similar rate...
What we sell as mulled wine is an imposition. You could also dissolve 300 grams of sugus in a litre of white vinegar, add red food colouring and some brush cleaner and heat the whole thing up.
"Why don't you do it better if you're going to be mucking about here?" say the comment column Taliban.
Gladly.
First of all: stay away from premixed mulled wine and spice mixes with sugar. In Switzerland, we mostly use German recipes for mulled wine, which contain too much sugar. Choose a decent, not too heavy wine for your mulled wine. Pinot Noir from the region, for example. Then add spices, citrus fruits and sweetness (in the form of sugar, honey or liqueur). Optionally, you can add high-proof spirits such as gin, vodka or cognac. Place everything in a large pan and heat, but do not bring to the boil. On the one hand, the alcohol would evaporate and on the other, the spices and citrus fruits would become bitter. After a good half hour, you'll have your own mulled wine... Forget the Christmas markets, do like Max Goldt and just walk past them sideways, because...
[...] thanks to good building regulations [...] it's possible to walk sideways past pretty much anything that's ugly!
When I flew the family nest over 15 years ago, I suddenly had to cook for myself. But it wasn’t long until this necessity became a virtue. Today, rattling those pots and pans is a fundamental part of my life. I’m a true foodie and devour everything from junk food to star-awarded cuisine. Literally. I eat way too fast.