For more than 20 years, I travelled extensively around the world and one of the things I looked forward to was staying at hotels I’d normally never be able to afford. There’s something wonderfully indulgent about five-star hotels, whether they be in New York, Hong Kong or Paris, and my first mornings would always follow the same path – trooping off to the hotel dining room with that day’s copy of the Herald Tribune and the heady anticipation of what the breakfast buffet would hold. I’d first check that bircher muesli was available; I considered then, and still do, that a hotel could best be judged by the quality of that one dish – moist, creamy, sweet and welcoming, the perfect introduction to a new destination.
This was especially so in Asian hotels during the 1990s, when the international five-star brands were more often than not staffed by European food and beverage executives, trained in classic traditions by the finest Swiss hotel schools. Even if the eggs were incinerated at blisteringly high temperatures and the “bacon” was beef or turkey, I could generally count on the bircher muesli as authentic.
In recent times, my travel has tailed off but my love of bircher muesli has not. In my local neighbourhood, I’ve found only one café that serves it and, while it’s a fair approximation, it’s not exactly my ideal.
With this in mind, I started fiddling with the numerous recipes available on the Internet. Most create the muesli from scratch, with oats and nuts, then adding grated apple, yoghurt and milk, at which point they often spin wildly off into a galactic black hole of improvisation. It’s not unusual to find such oddities as agave nectar, sunflower seeds and apple slices pan-fried in maple syrup and cinnamon.
I wanted something simpler. I figured there’s no reason I couldn’t start with readily-available pre-mixed supermarket muesli. Through trial and error, mostly error, I’ve devised one that comes pretty close to those wonderful concoctions I remember from my travels. Just how wicked it becomes, calorie-wise, depends on whether you use cream or milk or a combination of both. You can even substitute low-fat or skim milk and the taste will not suffer that much.
Firstly, though, a little background. Hats off to Maximilian Oskar Bircher-Benner, a late 19th century Swiss doctor and early advocate of healthy eating. The basis of his teachings was to avoid meat and concentrate on fruit, vegetables and nuts. Around 1900, at his clinic in Zurich, with the Alps resonating in the background, he mixed together a few of his favourite things and came up with museli.
Interestingly, across the Atlantic, this philosophy was mirrored by John Harvey Kellogg. At his Battle Creek Sanitorium in rural Michigan, Kellogg pushed the boundaries of healthy living way beyond his Seventh-day Adventist adherence (which already renounced alcohol and tobacco) and embraced vegetarianism. A firm believer in the benefits of nuts and whole grains, in the late 1890s he started a company with his brother, Will Keith Kellogg. No prizes for guessing where this is going, right? Along the way, Kellogg invented Corn Flakes and no suburban breakfast would ever be the same again.
And while I have Max to thank for my favourite breakfast, I have to admit that Kellogg was a much more interesting individual. He took weird and perfected it in ways that defy definition. As evidence, seek out the 1994 bio-pic, The Road To Wellville, with Anthony Hopkins as Kellogg and Dana Carvey as his brother and a supporting cast that includes John Cusack, Matthew Broderick and Bridget Fonda.
Kellogg’s overall philosophy was one of moderation and abstinence from all vices, sex included. Self-determination, if I may employ a euphemism, was especially abhorrent; Kellogg considered that such practices led to urinary disease, impotence, epilepsy, cancer, insanity and, eventually, death. These days, he’d probably throw in global warning and Republicanism.
So, keeping in mind the matter of full cream over low fat, what better time to segue to my bircher muesli recipe?
DL’s Bircher Muesli Recipe:
2 cups supermarket muesli (raw, not toasted)
250 mL milk (any type, even low fat or skim, or full cream)
125 mL apple juice
175 mL tub of yoghurt
1 tablespoon honey
½ medium apple, peeled and grated
1/ Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
2/ Before serving, the mixture may need a little extra milk. It should be moist but not wet, with a consistency a little on the porridge side.
Words © David Latta
6 thoughts on “Nuts and Cream: Bircher Muesli and Nineteenth Century Dietary Radicalism”
What a lovely posting – I was/am the same with hotels while travelling and it’s in the big Asian hotels where I first discovered the Bircher! I love it but have not had a good one outside a five/four star hotel. In fact, I may go months without it and then look forward to eating a cheery breakfast on my next trip. I’ll even try your recipe one day – well done. (Normally I dislike any form of cereal and only indulge infrequently when I have a healthy food attack – rare and unusual.
Thanks, Bev. Gotta love all those new experiences in travel, especially the eating.
Ok, I admit it, bircher muesli has always been one of those things that make me gag. Mixing milk, apple juice and yoghurt? What a clotted mess! But on your recommendation I will try it. If it does not go down well, I’ll be sure to let you know!
Found another cafe in Newtown that has it; unlike the other, which is a little on the dry side, this version is moist and delicious although maybe a little too much apple juice and not enough milk. Another plus is the serving is ENORMOUS, four times the size of the other cafe. Too much for one person; next time, I’ll get a doggy bag and have the rest the following day.
Yum yum i love it i got a really nice one down at the rocks markets yes a clotted mess but my taste buds said yummy
Hey, Sandra. Thanks for your comments. Following on from Alethea’s, the apple juice, yoghurt and milk (or cream) soaks into the oats (or muesli) and just puffs it all up. Strangely, it doesn’t curdle, just makes it tangy and sweet and creamy and highly addictive. Still I figure it must be good for you so that cloaks a little of the guilt.