They say never to play with your food, but once a year the bakers of Zug make an exception …..
Inside the Aklin restaurant, over a last sip of wine, members of the Bakers Guild peer through the still closed windows to the gathering crowds in the old town streets below. The small group, mostly children with their accompanying parents, are waiting patiently with empty bags in their hands. For when the neighbouring Zytturm clock strikes 16:15 the windows will open and treats will soon fly through the air.
It’s the last Wednesday in January, where for the past 332 years the Backers Guild of the lakeside city of Zug has met for the annual bakers’ meal or “Bäckermöhli”. But it is not the meal that has the crowds gathering, but rather what happens afterwards the plates have been cleared. Since 1632, the members of the bakers’ guild have ben gifting food to the waiting crowds below. Back then, it was leftovers from their meal. Today it is treats of bread rolls, sausages and oranges.
The Zytturm bell chimes once, signalling 16:15 and the festivities begin. First, a brass brands kick off the celebrations with a cover of Up in the Sky by Swiss band 77 Bombay Street, a cleverly chosen song considering we are all looking up waiting for the windows to open. The music ends, the windows finally open, and the cheering begins.
But before the kids can start filling up their bags with bread rolls and oranges, it needs to get loud. The Zunftmeister, the guy with the chunky golden necklace, puts his hands to ears until the crowds chant “bäckermöhli” louder and louder.
And so it begins.
Bread rolls start to fly past our heads, then its mini sausages. Each guild member takes his turn at the window to distribute his allocated amount of treats inside his logoed bag. Just like Fasnacht, it is wise to pay close attention when the oranges start to fly to avoid one hitting you straight in the head.
These days, the guild has members other than those who have chosen the baking or patisserie profession. Due to dwindling numbers, the guild has allowed other professions to join the “by invitation only” club. I spot my ex-gynecologist and my dentist amongst its members. The bakers are though distinguished by their Baking whites, while the others don suits with the guild’s badge on its lapel. The low professional membership has reached the other six guilds of Zug too, mentions a local friend. With, for example, the Fishers Guild only having three fishermen amongst its members.
It would be ignorant of me not to mention that this is still a men-only affair. I wonder if there are female bakers in Zug wishing they could be apart of the tradition, or they are more than happy to leave it to the men? While my first instinct is to label it as old fashion, on second thought, you could compare the male-only guilds of Zug to the modern-day women-only networking groups.
After about 15 minutes we’ve gathered quite a collection: bread rolls with the guild’s logo, a few wrapped cakelike treats and we’ve managed to catch a few oranges too. But no time to start enjoying them just yet, it is time to move. We join in the crowds shuffling across the road, and in typical Swiss style traffic controllers are managing the unusual amount of pedestrian traffic. As the brass band finishes their second performance of the day, the guild members come out onto the terrace of Hotel Ochsen to cheers of “bäckermöhli” it starts all over again.
This is just one of a variety of traditions the guilds of Zug celebrate through out the year. Keep your eye out for Greth Shell from the Carpenters in February and Chrööpfelimee from the Tailors on the 1st March.
