Part 2 of Kirsty’s Toad in the Hole or How to Survive and Thrive in a Bi-Cultural Marriage

Ernesto and Kirsty Bertarelli

My own Swiss husband, Mr. Jules, has never really got to grips with anything in batter and Britain’s culinary backbone the roast dinner – too many vegetables and over-cooked meat swimming in a sea of Oxo gravy  is how he describes it – is a challenge but he eats it.  I in turn eat his beloved Viande Sechée, thin slices of air dried beef which taste, to me, like dead donkey.  

I bet the British singer Seal eats his German supermodel wife Heidi Klum’s sauerkraut with inwardly a shudder but outwardly without a murmur. What about newly-weds Sarkozy and Carla Bruni?  Is he dying for a soothing white bean Cassoulet when she serves up a bowl of pasta for the umpteenth time?  At least Madonna and Guy Ritchie do not have this problem.  On her macrobiotic diet mac ‘n’cheese doesn’t even enter the Ritchie household.

Ernesto and Kirsty

When Ernesto Bertarelli fell for his down to earth English lass, Kirsty Roper, a former Miss UK, whom he presumably did not marry for her cooking skills, he had no idea that she, just like any woman in love, would one day want to feed her husband and therein lies the problem.  Having been brought up on his Italian mother’s food, I can’t imagine Ernesto has the appetite for anything coming out of Kirsty’s kitchen and he could even be forgiven for believing that she was trying to kill him.

The Swiss Can’t Tell Jokes 

All marriages are a compromise but bi-cultural marriages more so than others.  It’s not just the food that can be a challenge it is also communication and I’m not talking language barriers here as I’m sure like myself Kirsty’s French is up to scratch and we all know from the television interviews that Ernesto can speak English.  It’s more the ease of communication which can sometimes be a struggle.  For a start whole childhood references fall flat.  “Here’s one I made earlier” just doesn’t make it with someone who wasn’t brought up on Blue Peter.  Such catch-phrases just fail miserably to get me a laugh and my husband gives me a look of exasperation as if he is in no doubt he made the biggest mistake of his life by marrying me.

As for nuance, hints and sarcasm you soon realise this is a concept they are not au fait with.  If, for example, you say “It would be really nice to receive a bunch of flowers now and again.”  What you will get is a bunch of flowers at six month interludes.  Ditto for “Oh I’ll do the dishes/clear up then,” said in a sarcastic voice.  You will be percieved as volunteering.  Speak slowly in sentences that can be broken down into mini-bites and spell out exactly what it is you want in Janet and John speak and the penny will drop, maybe.  As for irony don’t even go there it is a complete waste and yours and his time.

The Swiss don’t tell jokes by nature, the term Swiss Comedy being universally agreed to be an oxymoron.  They won’t be the first to crack a joke to break the ice at a party or make a funny speech but over time as he gradually appreciates the British culture more and more, my Swiss husband has come to love our sense of humour and famous dry wit.  He is now a huge fan of Black Adder and The Office.  Perhaps likewise Ernesto and Kirsty settle down of an evening to watch Little Britain and Catherine Tate with a bottle of Bolly and…a Shepherd’s Pie.

The Swiss Are Incapable Of Laughing At Themselves

Which leads to awkward social situations where rather than laughing along with you and thus quickly diffusing the problem/situation they only make it worse by being overly serious and thus before long you have reached the level of a weep-inducing comic-tragedy.  When Mr. Jules, late for an important meeting, recently spilt coffee on his crisp white shirt as he exited the house and then mimed falling over his briefcase I realized I had a victory on my hands.

And then there are parties.  Ernesto has Italian blood so I think Kirsty probably doesn’t have this problem but I blame the Calvinists and the Protestants for eradicating the fun gene out of the Swiss.  They just don’t know how to let their hair down without feeling guilty.  Christmas was a tame affair in Mr. Jules’ family until I came along and showed them how to do it properly and the same goes for birthdays. Celebrating is important to me and we Brits certainly know how to give a good party so we reached a compromise, I do all the organising and preparing and he now turns up and puts his party hat on and I sneakily think actually enjoys it.  It’s the same with holidays, my Swiss husband thinks the world economy will collapse if he so much as gets a wiff of bourgainvillea or sits in the sun and drinks a margarita, so he works twice as hard before leaving then spends the holiday lying limply in a hotel room or on a sun lounger recovering from the adrenaline burn out.  I shouldn’t think the Bertarellis have this problem either as their life seems to be a permanent holiday and good luck to them.

The Passionate Swiss and Offspring

My advice to Kirsty, and I feel I can give advice as I am coming up to 22 years of marriage to my Swiss man this summer compared to her eight years, is to stick with it because the rewards are there to be had.  It is never boring for a start, arguments are humdingers as different temperaments rub off each other and misunderstandings are plentiful which makes it passionate and not humdrum and that passion overspills into the ….er…boudoir.  These are Continental Europeans don’t forget.

That Ernesto will be an excellent provider is a given in view of the massive wealth but will he make a good father?  When our son showed an interest in playing rugby my husband in his methodical, serious Swiss manner went out and bought Rugby for Dummies and studied it from cover to cover. Our son now plays Rugby for Switzerland in the under 19s team.

I am constantly learning in my marriage and my husband has taught me many things: the European appreciation for good food and wine; how to ski well and how to balance all these good things in life with a fine work ethic and moral code.  This work ethic and moral code is in fact far more evident in all public life here than what I have seen in other countries and as such their service industries are on par to none and make the day to day living far easier.  They have their rules and regulations which can sometimes be stifling but when you call up a workman you get reliable, good old-fashioned service and efficiency that seems to have disappeared elsewhere. 

It’s my and Kirsty’s dual passport holding Swiss/English children that I am envious of.  They have the best of both worlds.  By the sounds of it Kirsty is a fun-loving hands-on mum so mix those character traits with those of a man who knows how to lead a team to win the America’s cup and until he recently sold the family’s pharmaceutical company Serono, also ran a hugely profitable global business, and you have a winning combination.  Bi-cultural marriages also spring winning gene pools.

Last Word

As I said in the previous posting if in the years to come you see Ernesto, Seal, and Sarkozy looking a little on the porky side be sympathetic as you know they are having to eat two dinners a night.  Guy Ritchie, on the otherhand, will have faded into oblivion.

Copyright Jules Ritter May 2008