The Christmas drive up to the mountains has its traditions, rules and tunes. The original plan called for everything to be shipped up in advance on the train, while our journey would involve the cosy dining carriage on the Chur to St Moritz leg the day after for a gentle arrival in the Engadine. A schedule change (surprise! I am filing this column from Bahrain) required a speedy rethink on the transport and overall Christmas-logistics front. I devised a quick plan with my chief navigator and after a bit of tweaking here and there, we decided it would go something like this:

1.
Leave the Zürich staff Christmas party at a sensible hour.

2.
Wake up early Thursday morning to pack and be on the road by 08.00.

3. 
Get to St Moritz by lunch, pick up the tree and do a round of grocery shopping.

4.
Leave mom in charge of the decorating and coniferous styling. 

5.
Depart early Friday for Zürich and zip past the office before valeting the car at the airport with plenty of time to catch the Swiss flight to Dubai. 

One thing that was missed from the pre-departure checklist was the Christmas playlist. Up until last year, Yuletide tunes were flawlessly transmitted via a tiny iPod. Yes, go ahead and have a good laugh at my lack of modernity and spending on new tech – but there was never a need for an upgrade until my microscopic music box went missing sometime in the spring. It is hardly the season to bore you or myself with the various reasons why I have not yet searched for a replacement (is that even possible?) or a more advanced upgrade. Rather, I’ll explain what happens when you need to keep the mood in the Land Cruiser seasonally perky and opt to improvise. 

Everything would’ve been fine if modern vehicles still sported CD players but I was left to find Helene Fischer on Youtube. It pains me to even write this. No matter. I found Frau Fischer’s Weihnachts-Hits and off we went. We made it through 10 tracks before switching to Bublé. So far, so okay (Decathlon adverts aside). At about the same time that we turned off the highway for the climb up the mountain road, the playlist changed to something that Youtube claimed was from the 1940s. The first song sounded a bit familiar with all its frost, windowpanes, snowflakes and crackling. “Do I know this?” I asked my fellow passengers. “No, it’s not a classic,” said the navigator. Song two was a bit more swingy and for a moment I thought that I knew it but quickly realised that it wasn’t Dean Martin nor another Rat Packer. Song three sounded like song one but it was a female voice purring about the sax, vinyl, snowmen, crackling and windowpanes. Something was suddenly off. Would someone really reference vinyl in their lyrics circa 1947? “I think this is all AI rubbish,” I declared. 

The navigator did some quick research and soon confirmed my hunch. “These songs seem to tick all the AI-generated boxes” he said. We swiftly found our way back to humanity but this little audio incident has been nagging me all the way to the Gulf. Aside from the annoyance of being momentarily duped, what concerns me is that such rubbish is so celebrated by analysts and investors the world over. “Everyone should have substantial AI investments in their portfolios,” said a tech sorceress on Bloomberg. Really? Really? The smart money should be investing in a jazz ensemble from Kyoto for Christmas 2026 and charging appropriately for an elegant little concert season. Till then, get off the playlists, put on some Perry Como and have a superb Christmas! Cheers.

Enjoying life in ‘The Faster Lane’? Click here to browse all of Tyler’s past columns. 

South Tyrol’s Pramol Alto was only meant to be temporary (writes Ed Stocker). Two of the restaurant’s four key players had their eyes set on a farm restoration project further down the hill. But they soon realised that there was something special about the Pramol Alto spot, with its dramatic views onto Bolzano on one side and the jutting rock face of the Dolomites on the other. 

Originally from nearby Merano, Jakob Zeller has spent much of his cooking career in and around Europe. The restaurant’s kitchen is headed by Zeller and his Singaporean partner, Ethel Hoon, also a chef. Before Pramol Alto, they worked at a Chinese-Singaporean pop-up in the Ottmanngut guesthouse in Merano, and those influences appear on the current menu. For example, they recently did a play on the meat and chestnut-dominated food that features in late autumn in the region, adding a Chinese-style pork rib glazed with reduced birch syrup.

Hoon and Zeller are keen to point out that Pramol Alto isn’t a spot for hipsters from Berlin or Copenhagen to drop in on (despite the homemade, non-alcoholic, fermented drinks on the menu). Instead, it is about the locals, including the valley’s hunting club. “We’re not a UFO that landed here and doesn’t interact with the community,” says Zeller. 
restaurant-pramol.it

Monocle’s winter newspaper, ‘Alpino’, has plenty more mountain boltholes, high-altitude hospitality outposts and restaurant recommendations. On newsstands now.

Australian pastry chef and chocolatier Philip Khoury launched his confectionery brand, Khourys, in August this year. He conceives a new chocolate bar each month that is inspired by a different city: from an orange blossom and cashew bar that takes its cues from Beirut to a New York-inspired apple-pie bar. Here he tells us about his festive tipple of choice, the brands that he looks to for reliable tailoring and his seasonal soundtrack.

Where will we find you this weekend?
On a long flight back to Sydney, my hometown for much of my life. After that it’s London, my base for the past seven years and Lebanon, where my roots run deep and I always feel a pull.

What’s for breakfast?
Coffee and pastries. I have go-to spots such as Arôme Bakery and Pophams but also love hunting for a fresh bakery or hidden café wherever I am.

Lunch in or out? 
Out. Roe in Canary Wharf is my go-to: light, thoughtful and always a solid experience.

A Sunday soundtrack?
While cooking, I like to play Fairuz, Sade or Umm Kulthum – music that softens the kitchen’s edges.

Sunday culture must?
I have one of those cinema subscriptions so I feel compelled to see at least one film a month. It’s my cultural ritual – nothing grand but consistent.

News or no news?
Yes. I read the Financial Times despite having no interest in finance. It keeps me grounded.

What’s on the menu?
Home cooking. Every Sunday I make hummus from dried chickpeas, searching for the perfect balance. I’m getting closer each week.

A glass of wine for the festive season?
I’ve been enjoying wine from Château Biac in Bordeaux, where I hope to join the harvest next year. 

Which brands are you enjoying wearing?
CDLP for understated elegance; Lafaurie for crafted tailoring; Merz B Schwanen for quality and clean lines; and Uniqlo for reliable fundamentals.

This red-berry jelly is best served on its own and hot – ideally with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Alternatively, it makes for an excellent accompaniment to a roast turkey or venison. To lend some welcome acidity to this recipe, our Swiss chef Ralph Schelling recommends using sour cherries and red currants.

Serves 4 as a dessert (or side dish)

Ingredients
300ml red wine
300ml water
1 unwaxed orange, juice and zest
1 unwaxed lemon, juice and zest
100g raw cane sugar
2 vanilla pods, split lengthwise
1 tsp ground cardamom seeds
½ cinnamon stick
40g cornflour
500g mixed berries, fresh or frozen

Method

1.
Pour the red wine and water, as well as the juice and zest of the orange and lemon, into a pan. Add the sugar and spices, and bring to a boil. 

2.
Mix the cornflour with a splash of red wine and add it to the pan. Bring the mixture to a boil again, stirring constantly, until the liquid thickens.

3.
Let the compote cool, then briefly stir with a whisk. 

4.
Fold in fresh or thawed berries.

ralphschelling.com

In Austria’s Gargellen, the highest village in the Montafon valley, the mountain road ends abruptly (writes Ilona Marx). Just before the Schafbergbahn cable-car station, a dark wooden art nouveau façade rises proudly. Hotel Madrisa is named after the majestic 2,826-metre peak that marks the border between Vorarlberg in Austria and Graubünden in Switzerland.

The Rhomberg family has owned the hotel since the 1930s and today, third-generation owner Monika Rhomberg and her children, Johanna and Paul, continue this legacy. A painting in the rustic bar portrays the founder, Bertram Rhomberg. Each generation has left its imprint: Bertram’s wife, Midy, added a small ski lift to allow guests to ski in and out of the stay. 

The current generations are keeping the hotel up to date with the times. Most recently, the dining room – where guests now enjoy Alpine-inspired fine dining by Czech chef Zdenek Cepera – has been redesigned with warm oak wood and intimate alcoves. But