From Lake to Mountain: A Taste of Savoie

There are plenty of reasons to come to the French Alps.

The mountains, obviously. The lakes. The villages tucked into green valleys. The sound of cowbells drifting across a pasture. The promise of a long lunch after a morning spent walking, cycling or simply taking in the view.

But spend enough time here and you start to realise that the landscape isn't just something to admire from the restaurant terrace.

You can taste it.

The altitude, weather, pastures, forests and lakes all leave their mark on what is grown, raised, caught, preserved and served at the table.

The landscape is part of the recipe.

Start with the water

Before we get to the cheese, it's worth looking beneath the surface.

Lake Annecy's exceptionally clear, cold waters support a variety of fish, including féra, omble chevalier, perch, northern pike and lake trout. These fish have long been part of the local food culture, offering a very different expression of Alpine cooking from the rich, cheese-filled dishes we perhaps associate with the region.

There is something wonderfully simple about eating a fish beside the lake it came from.

You can see the water, the mountains rising around it and, on the plate, a small piece of that same landscape.

It is a useful reminder that Alpine cuisine isn't one thing.

It changes with its surroundings.

Follow the pastures

As you climb higher, the landscape becomes increasingly suited to one of the region's great culinary traditions: dairy farming.

Summer transforms the high pastures. Cows graze among grasses, herbs and mountain flowers, making use of land that would be difficult to cultivate in any other way.

And then there is Reblochon.

Soft, creamy and characteristically aromatic, Reblochon is one of the cheeses most closely associated with Savoie. It has become famous around the world, particularly as the star of tartiflette, where it melts over potatoes, onions and lardons.

But Reblochon is only one part of a remarkable cheese tradition.

There is Beaufort, rich and fruity; Abondance, fragrant and subtly nutty; and the rustic Tomme de Savoie, with its distinctive natural rind.

Each has its own character and traditions.

A mountain cheese isn't simply food.

It is a record of place and season.

There's wine in the mountains too

The lower valleys and sunny slopes provide pockets of ideal conditions for viticulture, producing wines as distinctive as the landscape itself.

Jacquère makes fresh, lively whites that work beautifully with local cheeses and lighter dishes. Altesse, the grape behind Roussette de Savoie, produces dry, aromatic wines, while Mondeuse gives us vibrant, spicy reds with plenty of character.

These aren't wines trying to imitate more famous French regions.

They belong here.

A glass of crisp Jacquère with local cheese, or a Mondeuse alongside saucisson, brings another part of the landscape to the table.

A pantry made by altitude

The pastures and vineyards aren't the only source of ingredients. The forests offer mushrooms, berries, wild herbs and other plants, while the sunnier valleys are well suited to fruit such as apples and pears.

Historically, mountain communities had to work with what the landscape offered — and with what it didn't. That meant preserving summer's abundance for the months when winter made life harder. Meat was cured, cheese was stored, vegetables were preserved and fruit became jams and compotes. Much of what we now think of as comforting Alpine food began as practical food: use what you have, waste as little as possible and make it last.

There is something rather appealing about that way of thinking, particularly today, when seasonality and provenance are becoming increasingly important again.

A cuisine that follows the seasons

The modern supermarket has made seasonality remarkably easy to ignore. The mountains haven't. Summer brings fresh milk, herbs, berries and vegetables, while autumn brings mushrooms, fruit and the work of preparing for winter.

Then comes the cold, and suddenly cheese, potatoes, cured meats, soups and slow-cooked dishes make perfect sense. They are substantial without being complicated, and particularly good after a day spent outside. Then spring comes, the pastures are green again and the cycle starts over. The food follows.

From necessity to indulgence

Perhaps the most charming thing about Alpine cooking is that many of its celebrated dishes weren't created to be luxurious. They were practical, making use of ingredients that were available locally, often at one point in the year and scarce at another. But necessity has a funny way of producing delicious things.

Take tartiflette. Potatoes, onions, lardons and Reblochon aren't complicated ingredients, but put them together after a day in the mountains and they become exactly what you want to eat. And then there are fondue and raclette — simple, generous ways of enjoying good mountain cheese that have become firmly woven into the Alpine dining tradition.

The same is true of a plate of cheese, charcuterie and bread, a bowl of soup after a wet walk, a simply prepared lake fish, or a summer lunch made from whatever looked best at the market that morning. The ingredients don't need much doing to them. The landscape has already done most of the work.

More than one Alpine cuisine

There isn't a single, fixed idea of what Alpine food should be. A fish from a mountain lake tells a different story from milk produced by cows grazing on high pasture. A glass of Jacquère brings the character of a sunny vineyard into the meal, an apple or pear reflects the sheltered conditions of the valleys, and a piece of Beaufort or Reblochon carries the traditions of mountain dairy farming.

Geography creates variety. Altitude changes what can grow. Weather dictates the seasons. And those practical realities become traditions over time. That's why travelling through the region with an appetite is so rewarding; you don't need to go far before the menu starts telling you something about where you are.

What does “local” really mean?

Local food is a relationship between people and place, and in the mountains that relationship is unusually easy to see. Sometimes the pasture where your cheese was produced is visible from the restaurant. Sometimes the lake is right beside you. Sometimes the vines are climbing a slope across the valley. Sometimes the fruit on your plate was grown only a short distance away. It doesn't get much more local than that.

Taste the place

The best Alpine food doesn't try to separate itself from its surroundings. It celebrates them. The lakes, forests, farms, vineyards, pastures and valleys all contribute something. So do the people who have learned how to make the most of them.

That's something we feel strongly about at Mountain Relish. Whenever we can, we love to bring that same sense of place into our own menus, incorporating as much fresh, local produce as possible. From exceptional cheeses and seasonal fruit to locally produced ingredients and the very best products we can source, we're passionate about using high-quality ingredients and letting them speak for themselves.

Because when you're cooking in the mountains, you don't need to overcomplicate things. Start with great ingredients. Know where they come from. Let the landscape do the rest.

You aren't simply tasting a dish. You're tasting where you are.

Because the mountain isn't just the scenery.

It's already on your plate.