Restaurant Wyberg, Teufen, Zurich

Kalbfleisch Kraftbrühe mit Wachtel- Ei

Kalbfleisch- Spiess mit Erdnusssauce und Gemüsecarpaccio

Kalbs- Kopf- Bäggli „Süessmost“ Mit glacierten Äpfeln

Knusperiger Kalbs- Kopf Auf marinierten Tomaten

Kalbfleisch- Tartar- Millefeuille mit Orangen- Mayonnaise dazu

„Gebratene Milken“ mit schwarzem Reis dazu Estragonsauce

Nierli im Glas Auf Sherry Linsen mit Kartoffel -Schaum

Geräuchertes Kalbszüngli Auf grünem Erbsenpüree und Kichererbsen- Falafel

Kalbfleisch Ravioloni in Morchelsauce

Feines Voressen in Rosmarinsauce und Kartoffelpüree

Schnitzel in luftiger, Knusperpanade und leichtem, warmen Kartoffelsalat

Kalbsleberli mit Cognac in Butter mit Rösti

Gefüllter mini Kalbsbraten mit Dörrpflaumen Portweinsauce und römischen Nocken

Filetmignon mit gebratener Jakobsmuschel Safranschaumsauce auf feinen Tagliatelle

My father had to face a harsh reality, he’s no longer the lead Silverback of the family. A younger, stronger male has taken his place. Finding himself with an abundant amount of time on his hands, I now get phone calls – midday at the office – inquiring about “hopeful, spousal candidates”. A group headed to the Restaurant Wyberg in Teufen. The reason we visited the restaurant wasn’t the semi-remote location (they offer a free shuttle back to the next train station), but the fact that they offer a “Chalber-Gourmet-Metzgete”. Essentially Metzgete translates to something along the lines of “butchery”, so they were doing a gourmet veal selection. Coming back to the topic of males asserting themselves. One of the diners – chef and restaurateur himself – looks at the Metzgete Menu which has 15 positions and says – I’ll eat them all. Obviously this had a cascading effect where others chimed in, all declaring that they’ll eat all of the dishes. I had a feeling how this was going to develop ahead of time so I prepared accordingly that day, to make sure I was physically, mentally and spirtually at my peak. In the morning I went to church and attended mass. There weren’t many people my age, the singing was timid and the hors d’oeuvre served was on the dry side, but I’m assuming that’s beside the point of spirtitual calmness. Ensuring my further mental balance I headed over to the Museum Rietberg to join a tour through three generations of North Indian painters where an attractive & accademically acclaimed woman led us through the exihibition. For gentlemen lacking a hopeful spousal candidate, this seems to beat speed-dating. The ratio of male to female in our group of eight was 1:7. I wonder if this fact leads to a surge in the number of visitors to the museum. After a brief detour home and further studies in gastronomy and food critque (RTL2, Die Kochprofis) I went to the gym. Interesting enough I think the crowd was the same as in church. Coming back to our small dinner, keeping in mind my thorough preparation, I bravely accepted the challenge, even though my co-diners outweighed and outtowered myself. We got down to business. The veal broth was intense, with a nice quail egg. The next dish was a play of a Satay, I liked the flavour of the sauce, but thought that maybe the rather delicate veal is the wrong type of meat. I was blown away by the veal cheeks with an apple chip and some piece of candied apple, simply a marvelous combination and my favourite one of the night. The fried veal head on top of tomato fell somewhat short, it was too fatty and tomatoes in February aren’t my thing. Also the veal tartare with salad and orange-mayonaise had a too sweet and fruity note for my taste. Veal sweetbreads with a delicate fennel chip, tarragon sauce and black rice was lovely. I had an interesting discussion with the chef who joined us later after our dinner. When I mentioned that I thought the rice was a tad overcooked he laughed and said yes he thought so too. If he’d be cooking in downtown Zurich, he’d have cooked it less, but here out in the country if he doesn’t cook it through, it gets sent back. The answer clearly showed that the chef has a high level of culinary skill, since it was a conscious decision and not just a random act. It continued on a high note, kidneys on lentils covered with a potato foam had a strong and full flavour, but none of the stench that it’s sometimes accompanied by, magnificent. Veal tongue came with a falafel and some pea puree, nice and a decent combination. Back up to heaven was a veal ravioli with morel sauce, I could have eaten a dozen, if it hadn’t been for the other courses to come. Voressen, which is a kind of ragout, came with a bit of mash and a flavourful sauce. I liked the small Wiener Schnitzel, a lovely breading, but wasn’t too thrilled about the potato salad which had a heavy mayo base. By now one of the co-diners was sweating profusely, he had hot flashes and his female companion thought he looked pale and should stop. He’s ego wouldn’t let him. The veal liver was okay, the roeschti wasn’t, it lacked crispiness and was a bit too soggy from the butter. I’ll be honest, by now the nice buttered piece of bread I ate before the dinner didn’t seem to be such a good idea after all… The highlight of the veal roast with prunes were the semolina half moon shaped things, which were slightly roasted in the pan. Finally (roughly 5 hours after we began) the last course appears – a fillet of veal with saffron sauce, tagilatelle and a scallop. I had to really reach deep down inside, but I managed to finish this plate as well. In hindsight it was too much, but it was a fun way of really experiencing all the dishes. I really liked the event, I thought the chef and the brigade showed a lot of talent, culinary intelligence and also they seemed grounded enough to pull of some pretty simple, yet amazing dishes (think veal cheeks). I ordered a homemade quince sorbet with vodka to finish off the meal and was amazed one last time. Prices were pretty fantastic (keep in mind this here was for eight people), the amount of alcohol is easily explained by two diners being restaurateurs having the next day off and two other diners playing in a death metal band:

Rechnung