This week I discovered a new appreciation for an old food tradition. I set out looking for a cooking or kitchen technique that focused on simplicity – you know, something inspired and amazing that might simplify your life in one easy step – and then Katie (of Rogue Rice fame) recommended fondue. I balked at the idea for many reasons.
1. I don’t have a fondue set.
2. Fondue sets have lots of parts and pieces.
3. It requires a gathering of people – who wants to eat fondue alone?
4. It seems anything but simple.
Nevertheless, within minutes I found myself doing a search for ‘fondue’ on Craigslist and in the time it takes to say “Emmental cheese”, I had located a brand new, still in the box, fondue kit for ten dollars. In less than one hour, I became the proud owner of a fondue set.
Now that reason number one no longer held any weight, I informed Katie she was required to partake in a great fondue experiment the following night. We wrangled a couple more friends, she murmured something about chocolate liqueur and tiramisu, and suddenly we had enough people to make a proper fondue party. Reason number three: dashed.
But, what to prepare? It seemed blasphemous to not pay homage to fondue’s Swiss lineage, so cheese had to be included. I was intent on finding a vanilla recipe and Katie was intent on chocolate. In short order, we nailed down the perfect fondue trifecta. Thankfully, the Internet is awash with sites dedicated to fondue recipes like this one or this one or this one.
The day of the big event I braved extreme cold, falling snow (during rush hour, of course), and five stores to acquire my list of ingredients: pears, apples, corn starch, gruyere and emmental cheese (to save a few $$ I bought a bag of pre-shredded fondue cheese that most fondue experts agree you should avoid), chocolate chips, dry white wine, bread, lady fingers, oranges, mascarpone, whipping cream and sterno (hint: not readily available at grocery stores. I got mine at Kmart). This was definitely no simple affair (see reason 4 above).
That is, until the preparations began. With friends on hand – I didn’t have to slice a single piece of fruit or bread (thanks Lera) – the fondue making was a snap. I just stood at my stove, rubbed garlic into a pan, added wine and cheese and stirred. Katie and Danny figured out the sterno lighting. Then, we gorged the dip with rustic whole wheat bread and red wine and debated fondue etiquette.
Next, the vanilla fondue. I modified Ilana Simon’s vanilla recipe – a ridiculously simple combination of water, sugar, cornstarch, butter, salt and vanilla – to include Rodelle Bourbon vanilla bean instead of extract. I paired the vanilla dip with honey crisp apples and Bosc, Bartlett and Anjou pears because my Flavor Bible recommended I do so. Have you ever tasted something so surprisingly good that you thought that if you died in that moment, your life would’ve been incomplete because you didn’t get to taste it again; nay, you didn’t get to rub your ENTIRE body in the concoction and lick yourself silly for the rest of eternity? That’s pretty much what I experienced every time I dipped a fruity morsel into the vanilla fondue. The vanilla bean was a knock out substitution that almost made me cry for joy.
We finished the night by creating our own chocolate fondue recipe adapted from a chocolate tiramisu recipe by
Giada De Laurentiis. We melted chocolate chips, added mascarpone and cream, a handful of sugar and flavored the blend with a splashes of Starbucks Coffee Liqueur. We devoured the concoction with lady fingers, clementines, the remaining apple and pear bites and more red wine.
Remember reason number 2 about parts and pieces?? Dead simple. We used two pots, three wooden spoons, one measuring cup, four plates, four wine glasses, four skewers, sterno and a match. Preparations and clean-up were a snap. While the ingredients were slightly costly, the pleasure in preparing and enjoying food with friends more than balanced out the hit to my wallet. And the vanilla fondue? Oh my. That’s a keeper.
So here’s your mission for this month — Fondue. Go on. Do it. Get over the cliched 70s image. Is that fondue set you got for your wedding still sitting unused in its original box in the closet? Dust it off, get it out, love it and then tell me all about it.
In search of simple pleasures,
Carol