The 112-year-old hotel’s Le Grand gives guests exactly what they want—even if it’s off-menu.
Le Grand, the newest restaurant at Switzerland’s five-star Gstaad Palace, was seven years and nearly 4 million Swiss francs (about $5 million) in the making. It’s the pandemic story we’re all familiar with by now: The staff of the 112-year-old hotel were in the process of reenvisioning the flagship dining experience when Covid hit, putting the renovation—and just about everything else—on hold. When Andrea Scherz, the property’s general manager and third-generation owner, picked the project back up, he wasn’t exactly sure what Le Grand was supposed to be. But his job is to make sure guests get what they want, and eventually he landed on a concept that remains cozy while reflecting the property’s, well, grand mountain setting and palatial design.
The result is an opulent dining room with 90 cushy seats. Guests must adhere to a dress code that prohibits ripped jeans, athletic wear, and other casual attire. “It has quite a glamorous atmosphere,” Scherz tells Robb Report. “Most of our guests, they really like to dress up for the occasion.” Draped in their jewels and their Vacheron Constantins, they pore over a thick menu of more than 75 dishes devised by culinary director Franz W. Faeh, who has worked at the Palace for over a decade, and his team of 58 kitchen staff. “When we hand it to the guest, they say, ‘No, we wanted the menu, not the wine list.’ And we go, ‘No, no, this is the menu,’ ” Scherz says with a chuckle.
Every season, Faeh swaps in some 30 to 40 new dishes, but others have been part of the repertoire for decades. Diners appreciate the Palace’s more traditional cuisine, and part of the revamp involved leaning into classic Swiss flavors and preparations. A handful of items are finished off tableside, providing guests with dinner and a show. The chef ’s favorite dish on the menu as of press time is his Hong Kong–style sea bass, inspired in part by the 14 years he spent in kitchens across Asia. “I’m not really into chichi,” Faeh says of his mode of cooking. “I’m into taste, flavors, and the quality of production.” In other words, don’t expect to find tweezer food on offer.
Despite the extensive menu, about 90 percent of diners at Le Grand simply ask for whatever they want. And the kitchen is happy to oblige. “We don’t say no to guests,” Faeh explains. So, if someone describes a fish they had in Portofino years ago, the kitchen will try to re-create that meal based just on their description. It’s what the clientele expects from a property of the Palace’s caliber. “If you’re chic, if you’re somebody, you certainly don’t order from the menu,” Scherz says. “Many of our guests, they have more than 15 staff in their home. They have two, three chefs and they’re used to more or less sitting down and thinking [of] what they feel like at the moment. This is luxury. This is old school.”
To balance out Le Grand’s classic elements and Gstaad Palace’s imposing history, Scherz has emphasized modern details such as custom high-tech lighting, an aspect of the design that he calls one of the most important at a restaurant. And the menu has humor running through it, with caricature-esque drawings among the dishes and section headers like “Gone Fishing,” where you’ll find seafood classics including sole meunière and scallops with black truffle potato mousseline. “We are modern in a really cheeky way,” Scherz says. “We don’t take ourselves too serious.”
At least, not anymore. Scherz’s great-grandfather, Ernst Scherz, was a well-connected banker who begged his son not to go into the hotel business. “He was called the hotel god, because he saved so many hotels [after the Great Depression], so he knew what a disastrous business this is.” On a column just beyond an intricate stone fireplace, Scherz hung a painting of his ancestor, giving him a full view of the packed house. With a laugh, he looks at it and says, “You were wrong!”
