"Gastronomy needs to take a step towards farmers. It doesn't work the other way around," says Swiss chef Rebecca Clopath
Rebecca, are you more of a chef or a farmer?
Definitely a chef. I worked in different kitchens after my apprenticeship, but at about 25 I came to my own idea of how I wanted to cook. It was clear to me that I needed to become independent, so I returned to my parents' farm. I decided to run the business there and take over the farm at the same time, but not because I felt a commitment or desire to farm. I'm a foodie, and farming is part of our business. That was one of the reasons I additionally trained as a farmer.
Wasn't farm experience enough for you?
It wasn't enough. Because a certificate was a requirement for me to run a farm. It was something girls who are learning how to run a household on a farm usually apply to, and I struggled a bit with the conservative attitude, for example when we ironed shirts in class and weren't allowed to button the buttons because "husbands don't like that". On the other hand, I was able to continue cooking while I was in school, and most importantly, I understood farming. I knew from the beginning that I couldn't fully concentrate on the kitchen and farming. I wanted to at least add to my knowledge of growing and breeding, and to deal with raw materials from the ground up so that I could recognise quality and then work with honest farmers.
What do you see as the most important difference between gastronomy and agriculture?
They are two completely different professions, carried out by people with completely different interests. It's rare to find a person who is passionate about both. At first I wanted to send cooks regularly to the stables and the fields, but then I realised that I would be wasting their potential. A skilled pro has no ambition to shovel manure, just as a farmer refuses to shut himself in the kitchen. That's why it's quite enough for cooks to take a "shift" on the farm once a year to help with the harvest. In addition, we organise meetings and see the people who look after the garden and the animals almost every day for a meal together. I have come to understand that we cannot mix different worlds, but we can bring them together.
What do you think is the key to bringing chefs and farmers together?
Both sides should pay attention to each other and show respect. But I am convinced that gastronomy must start and step towards farmers first. It does not work the other way round. It's great that more and more restaurants are going round to their suppliers a couple of times a year to see how they are farming and to agree on a range of products or terms of delivery. Moreover, such a visit is an ideal way to educate. Every chef can say that they work with the best produce, but if they don't use it to make the best possible food, they won't impress anyone.
The question arises as to what constitutes the 'best' product.
For a lot of pros, it's the beautiful skin and the symmetrical shape. They're not looking for exceptional taste. Personally, I would never buy a polished Granny Smith, because the neighbour's apples just taste better. But I'm also interested in the method of production. I want to use ingredients in my kitchen that are sustainably produced and fair to nature and people at all times. Whether we're cooking a tasting menu for guests or a meal for the staff.
Do you work without compromise?
Yes and no. Locality is our number one priority, but it's impossible to live 100% locally these days. I was originally planning to source all my produce from the Alps, but I wouldn't have been allowed to cook on the fire and get Feuerring out of steel that's imported. A similar compromise applies to glasses, ceramics or even tables and chairs. The furniture may come from a local cabinetmaker who works with local wood, but who can tell me where the felt pads come from? That's why we don't tell anyone that we buy exclusively from the Alps, although this is indeed the case with raw materials.
What are you trying to tell guests through the food?
At the table, we talk about the fact that Switzerland is made up of regions that are culinarily different from each other. I don't think you can talk about typical Swiss cuisine. In South Tyrol, for example, they eat similarly to what we do in Graubünden, whereas in the north-west they grow more grains and fruit, and Basel, for example, is close to French cuisine. The regional differences are not as pronounced as they were a century ago, but they are still important in people's lives. In our canton, but also in cantons such as Wallis and Ticino, people eat more or less traditionally.
However, your menu does not present traditional dishes, does it?
My theme is not recipes, but the Alpine region, its typical ingredients, stories and similarities. I find it a shame to stick to the Swiss Alps when our village is about half an hour's drive from Italy. At the same time, we do not seek out products in Slovenia or southern France, because the surrounding area provides more than enough. By the way, in Switzerland you are practically everywhere close to the national border. However, these change historically, whereas the culture in a certain area is rooted much deeper.
You called the concept Esswahrnehmung (food perception). How did it all come about?
When I moved back to my parents' house eight years ago, I had a plan but lacked the money. I took a chance. We gradually furnished the dining room and kitchen on the ground floor, and I stood alone in it. I couldn't afford staff. My dad would come in after work to help out with the dishwasher, my mom would help with prep or set up, and my sister, who still does the bookkeeping, would pitch in now and then. It wasn't until a few years later that I hired a few friends. Today, I am accompanied by a team of three, and most of the people don't stay with me for more than two seasons – they gain experience and move on.
So the restaurant isn't open year-round?
We're not a traditional restaurant. Guests can only come to us by reservation and get a nine-course menu, which we serve from 12:30 to 5:30 in the afternoon. The event always has a theme and only runs from January to June. In the summer we have a ton of work to do on the farm. We tend the garden, make hay, harvest, can, ferment... and make supplies for ourselves and the kitchen, as well as for our shop in the village square.
To what extent are you self-sufficient thanks to the farm?
It depends on the season and our capacity. Last year we did a lot of cooking to regain stability after a difficult pandemic period, so there wasn't much energy left for growing. This year's crop will probably be different – Tim joined us a year ago and is responsible for two gardens, a field and a greenhouse, and he guides the volunteers who come in as part of the program WWOOF. In addition to this we keep about thirty cows that graze over the summer on what is called Alma. A group of people stay there with them, milking them and making cheese for us. From the meat breeds, we select cuts for slaughter and also fatten up two pigs – the original Black Alpine breed. The meat is processed by a butcher from a nearby village. That's right for me. We do not intend to be self-sufficient. On the contrary! We want to introduce people to interesting local products and producers who can be made visible and motivated to persevere in their work.
What helped you to become visible?
We have hit the time when regionality, fermentation and wild berry picking have become a trend, and besides, we cook quite well. In addition, 99% of our guests are Swiss, who enjoy rediscovering the Alpine region. Most of them are surprised by what grows and lives here. Few people expect citrus on their plate, but they are often intrigued by traditional produce or unusual arrangements or combinations of ingredients. In truth, though, I think guests return because of our honesty. We don't put on a show, we don't try to fool anyone. I believe this is what people appreciate today. A lot of places just waste words. "Sustainability" is an example. It's a buzzword, but how many restaurants really take it seriously? So instead of 'sustainable gastronomy', I would like to see gastronomy that is honest.
The sustainability of gastronomy also depends on the attitude towards the next generation. Do you notice any significant changes in your team in terms of the needs of young people?
I would say that the basic needs are not changing. We all need to feel good, physically and mentally, we all seek acceptance, respect and the opportunity to express ourselves. Now I am thinking of the opportunity to say out loud what one is worried about or happy about. We hung a graphic on our kitchen door that depicts physiological and social needs, as well as various emotions, their causes and effects. Everyone can decipher why they are feeling this way today and then explain it better to others. It helps us to improve communication. It was equally important to set up a system and a hierarchy. At first I tried to divide the responsibility equally, but it didn't work. A team is stronger when it has a chef who maintains the direction and makes the final decisions without always having to be right and resisting the exchange of opinions. That's been my experience.
What does a chef learn near the mountains?
That the weather changes quickly, that winters can be long and that time plays a completely different role for humans than it does for nature. The mountains make you feel how short human life is and make you wonder about the meaning of everything we try to do here. I already know that I want to do what benefits me, but also the people and the surrounding landscape. That's why I have one foot in the kitchen and one foot in agriculture. I can influence the balance between how much we take from nature and how much we put back into it. At the same time, here at Lohn we fulfil the role of gastronomy, which is to bring people together, to enable them to meet, to discuss and to create a space where everyone is welcome, without distinction. We have the perfect tool for this - food that nourishes but also brings people together.
