On a chilly New Year’s Eve, Jim and I stand next to each other in our small galley kitchen. The soft lights around us keep the dark out as, on one side, Jim slices the freshly baked French baguettes on our butcher block countertop, slowly filling cloth-lined baskets with mounds of bread cubes. I’m on the other side, by the kitchen sink, grating three and half pounds of good Swiss cheeses by hand into large bowls. Then I add two tablespoons of flour to each bowl of cheese and mix it in. On the stove, two fondue pots, their insides rubbed with cut garlic, each hold a bottle’s worth of Sauvignon Blanc that is starting to simmer. The table in the dining room is already set with plates, fondue forks and wine and water glasses. The fondue pot holders are ready to go as well.
The doorbell rings and Sadie, the pup, runs to the porch door to greet the guests. A small group of in town and out of town family are here to share this evening’s fondue. Sadie trots around excitedly amid the German, French and English conversations in the hallway. We are ready to start the fondue.
Back in the kitchen, Jim and I slowly add the grated cheese and flour mixture by small handfuls into the simmering wine. Everything smells so good. The cheese melts as we stir it into the pot. Once all the cheese is added, I pour a glug of cherry brandy and throw a pinch each of nutmeg, salt and pepper into each pot. I hand the baskets of bread over the counter to guests to add to the table. Jim lights the small burners on the fondue holders and we are ready to transfer the pots from the stove to the table.
Here comes the best part! We toast the evening with glasses filled with refreshing Martinelli sparkling apple juice and Riesling wine. Then we each take a mound of bread cubes from the baskets that are passed around and we spear one bread cube at a time and dip it into the cheese mixture. That first bite is so good! Warm, cheesy, winy, bready, heady. We remind ourselves of the “rules” of cheese fondue. Someone always needs to be stirring the mixture. If you drop your piece of bread in the fondue, you have to host the next fondue gathering or you have to kiss the person sitting next to you.
In between the refills of bread cubes, we share a green salad that my sister and her husband brought. Then, we pass the bread baskets around and continue to spear and dip as the fondue levels go down. Conversation flows, Sadie meanders under the table hoping for dropped tidbits and the rest of us finally reach the point of total satiation. We remove the mostly empty pots, then finish the meal with home canned peaches topped with red raspberries and little bowls of peppernuts.
This last evening of the year is full of cheer, good food and conversation. It brings warmth on a cold night. And it bodes well for the year to come. Later, after the guests leave, I realize that I never took a photo. Maybe, though, as you read these words, you will see the scene in your mind and feel its warmth in your heart. (And, if you read closely, the recipe is included!
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