There are places no tourist ever strays into. Places known only to those who belong, from the neighbourhood, from the neighbourhoods around it, quietly passed on among locals.

The Midway in District 4, or the «Cheib», as the initiated call this part of town. No curated menu, no interior storytelling, no «concept». And that is exactly why it rings true.

On Wednesdays there is spaghetti. Bolognese or pesto, as much as you like, with a salad, for nine francs. That is less than a quarter of what is asked for it elsewhere in Zurich. Whoever knows this comes. And comes again. And at some point he knows the others who also keep coming.

On the other days there is a small, changing menu: Swiss, Thai, whatever Rana happens to be interested in.

That is how something arises that people used to call a matter of course.

The regulars here are forty, fifty, some seventy and older. They do not sit side by side looking at their phones. They look at the screen together when sport is on, and then they talk, shout, comment, interrupt each other. That is a difference bigger than it sounds.

People know each other. They know the names, the quirks, the jokes that are already too old to be funny, and for exactly that reason still work. You simply belong.

Such Beizen, as we in Switzerland call a pub, a local, a place where you are a regular, are becoming rarer. Not because nobody wants them. But because nobody founds them.

One man did.

Rana, the owner of the Midway, comes originally from Bangladesh and has worked in Switzerland for many years, in various restaurants and bars, until he fulfilled this dream: a place of his own. One that deserves its name. A midway, a place halfway between home and world, between strangers and acquaintances.

He greets you with a firm handshake. Now and then he has a short conversation, then hurries into the kitchen, and what comes out of it is better than you would expect. The pork chop with pappardelle, those broad, silky noodles, and nothing else, and that is exactly the point. The Fleischkäse, the Swiss meatloaf, with egg and a refined garnish. Or, for anyone who wants to travel further without leaving his chair, the Thai pad krapao, hot and aromatic and completely in the wrong place, and therefore exactly right. Then he comes out again. Not to serve. To be there.

That is hospitality. A real one, not a learnt one.

The service is done by Pui and Pra, who belong to the place as much as the regulars themselves. Not professionals in the classic sense, but with the warmth and the direct tone of someone who knows the guests and knows that they will come back.

The place lies at the crossing of Rolandstrasse and Zimistrasse, one of those crossings you still find in Zurich when you are not looking. Maxim, jazz musician from Cameroon and owner of the Spotbar opposite, calls it the most beautiful crossing in all of Zurich. In the middle of the noise of District 4, and still calm. Not quiet. Calm. It is the difference between a place that enforces silence and one that permits composure.

Warmth. Cosiness. The feeling that this evening counts.

The table as the place where you remember again how it is done.

The Midway practises it. On Wednesdays. And more often.