Circumnavigating the Globus

Unfortunately but perhaps not unexpectedly, our housing fortunes hit the skids again last week. By Tuesday we had received rejections for all rental applications submitted so far. Particularly galling was the Wipkingen apartment rejection for which, due to serendipitous timing, ours was one of only two applications submitted rather than 15 or 30. Our relocation agent Mr. Mssrli marvelously positioned us as first choice with the listing agency; when they phoned the landlady with our application as the top selection, she reneged on the "pets allowed" clause deciding that only cats were acceptable. So the other applicant won instead. Pure and utter Scheiße (don't translate that word).

Mr. Mssrli, whom as half-English and -Swiss always handles himself with utmost composure, informed me that he became "unduly cross" with the listing agency and asked quite vehemently if we would have been accepted had we "owned a parrot or a monkey instead of a dog." In wonderfully unflappable Swiss fashion, the woman answered, "Well, we've never had that situation."

On Tuesday--the same day as the Wipkingen rejection--we attended another "pets allowed," overrun open showing where the landlord, as Mr. Mssrli introduced us on-site, inquired what kind of dog we owned and then stated that labrador breeds did not qualify and thanked us for viewing. Showings in general slowed again last week as the Dec 1 property deadlines passed; to say we're not enthused about prospects in December as half the world shuts down for two weeks is grossly understated. So procuring permanent housing continues as our daily throbbing thorn in what has otherwise been a very good experience. And how do Steph and I grapple with stress? That's right, we eat and drink through it!

As a precursor, Steph exited work slightly early on Friday afternoon to join Mr. Mssrli and me for another lovely, large (but expensive!) apartment viewing in a perfect central Zürich location called Kreuzplatz; we're unlikely candidates so I'll spare the details, but afterwords Steph and I found ourselves with several hours to kill before previously-made late dinner reservations. Deciding not to return to Kloten and fortuitously both having eaten a light lunch, we instead began an unplanned attack on any gastronomical obstacle in our path. We conducted warm-up drills with an espresso and cappuccino at a nearby corner cafe with a somewhat Bohemian feel called...Bohemia. From there, descending from Kreuzplatz to a favorite locale, Bellevueplatz, we launched our opening volley at a store called Globus.

Globus is a "high end" grocery/delicatessen (akin to New York's Dean & DeLuca) owned by the ubiquitous Migros, Switzerland's #1 grocery chain. Recall for a moment the Swiss "low end" is suburban gas stations serving world-class bread and pastries; the "medium range" is locally farmed and daily fresh produce, meat and dairy of phenomenal quality; the high end is Globus. Regarding other high end groceries, perhaps you've heard the joke about Whole Foods being nicknamed Whole Paycheck? Well, Globus is Whole Paycheck for Zürich's bankers and jewelers.

We passed through the ground floor delicatessen and proceeded downstairs to peruse the grocery (Steph visited back in September, I had not). Of course, both the food and service shine spectacularly--customers don't even handle their own produce, they simply point to the fruit or vegetable of choice and an Executive Produce Consultant bags and weighs it. Meandering slowly but drawn inexorably as if by an invisible magnet, we arrived to a stand with three chilling wine bottles--a complementary Pommery Champagne tasting. Champagne is Steph's desert island drink, i.e., her one desired drink if stranded on a desert island. The only time we don't enjoy Champagne is when it's administered intravenously because the bubbles are slightly less refreshing.

We hit it off with the Pommery tasting host, a native of Zürich who really liked America from time spent working at Disneyland in Anaheim as a youth and later traveling around with Swiss Air. The "tastes" were quite generous, none of the stingy "1/2 oz. per customer" routine. After the requisite three samples, he provided another two because I think he enjoyed talking to us and because he said many Swiss had refused free samples earlier in the afternoon for lame reasons like working or driving, slightly irritating him. We reciprocated by buying a bottle for a special occasion, specifically promising to pop it open with a vengeance on the inevitable day that our first apartment application is accepted.

With defenses down and the purchasing "seal" broken, we wandered to the coffee section to buy Italian coffee and then to the cheese section because, of course, they carry our somewhat hard-to-find favorite from France called Vacherin (although we're now told it originated in Switzerland); categorized as a soft cheese, it's actually semi-liquid because when warm it oozes all over everything (a good oozing, though). We passed another tasting table featuring sweet Italian Christmas bread, Panettone, where an older Swiss gentleman somehow kindly insisted in Swiss-German--never speaking a word of English--that we try it, which we did. He continued to attempt conversation, so I showcased my new poor German skills by telling him that we came from the U.S., that Steph worked for Hyatt, and that we've been living in Switzerland for one month. At the end of the brief but pleasant exchange, he pointed to Steph and said one English word, "Happy!" which is indeed an excellent description of her personality.

After touring the wine section, we began another short-lived tasting but understandably lost our friendly English-speaking host when two dapper Swiss business gentlemen arrived emanating strong signals they might each purchase 5,000 CHF of wine from him before 7pm. So we returned to the upstairs delicatessen for an aperitif and appetizer, sharing a fantastic panini-type sandwich and some tapas, including a cow-fresh-cream-cheese-wrapped-in-prosciutto thing for which you'd gladly trade your children, and two more glasses of wine. We relinquished our valuable seats as the Friday after-work crowd plowed in and headed towards the nearby historic Old Town neighborhood to find our next hapless victim before dinner.