There are certain places that are quintessentially emblematic of a particular region or aesthetic. It’s like they’ve been designed to fit a stereotype and they’re a little Stepford in how well they succeed in conforming to our expectations.
Gruyere in Switzerland is like that – although in fairness, a lot of Switzerland is a little Stepford. Gruyere is what happens when Hansel and Gretel escape from the wicked witch and decide to go into urban planning. There are cobblestone streets lined with neatly whitewashed houses with geraniums in every window box. There’s a fountain in the middle of the town square, and there are flower arrangements in old wells (geraniums, of course – we knew my mother had lived in Switzerland too long when she started to buy geraniums for outside planters with a complete lack of irony). In the winter, snow rims the eaves and icicles hang in neatly ordered rows. Because this is Switzerland I’m sure that the inhabitants are trimming the icicles if they get longer than the regulation limit.
Monday Night Dinner 
