“We have always had a poor man’s cuisine, working the land and trying to cook with very simple ingredients—potatoes, meats and cheese, Riebel. I think it’s from this necessity comes our innovation.”
Guerrino Longhinop
As a child of a migrant, food and identity have always been a topic that I have long been obsessed with. A plate of food is not just a means of nourishment. In it lies the story of us, a complex web of identities, multiple strands that connect us, from London to Kolkata, from Tokyo to Lisbon. Appreciating the story behind every dish, learning about the craft not only makes us enjoy that dish, it also brings us together. It makes us appreciate the history, heritage of a place. The centuries of craft, the endless graft, shaped by poverty and cold harsh winters, food becomes some magical time traveller’s capsule which transcends time and space. Especially where national boundaries overlap and culture collide, food can be a fascinating prism for exploring identity. Buffeted by Germany in the north west, Switzerland in the west and Liechtenstein on the east, Vorarlberg, the westernmost point of Austria on the southeast shore of Constance, is one such place where climate, history and culinary traditions intertwine to create a unique food culture.