Eat Fondue

“Before I could dig in, though, I had a quick Fondue etiquette course: The pot is called a caquelon, the heater is a rechaud, you’re supposed to swirl around whatever’s on your fork so the cheese doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pot, and if you drop something into the caquelon, you get punished. [...] At some point amid my third bite and his twentieth, we’re lazily swirling our forks trying to pick up the last bits of the stringy, barely salty but very savory mix of Gruyère, Emmental, and probably Appenzeller. In that moment, it was so easy to understand the appeal of fondue both as a social gathering and a culinary treat. Great ingredients brought together in an extremely simple preparation, and a wildly entertaining serving process lets you enjoy the company and go on for as long as you have space in your stomach.”

“My jaw dropped as the waiter brought out a Dutch oven, a small burner, a loaf of cubed bread, and a plate of steamed potatoes. The Dutch oven was filled to the brim with cheese. At least a gallon (4 litres) of cheese. We looked at each other in silent horror. There was no way we could eat all of this! Shrugging, we dug in and started with the bread cubes on the dipping sticks. The cheese had a strong aroma, but a good flavor. The bread was soft and springy, with a pleasant texture. After four potato slices, and a few cubes of bread, it felt like my tummy was going to burst at the seams. I hate wasting food, I really do, but I was at a loss for what to do. The sheer volume of cheese, along with my lactose intolerance, were not a compatible match. Stressed, our foreheads began to sweat as the cheese coma settled over us.”