Back in 2007, the American Dairy Association launched an advertising campaign with the slogan, “Behold the power of cheese.” The campaign was cute, but also could have never been more accurate. When you’ve committed to sitting down and ingesting a giant pot of melted cheese, likely eating more than half a block all by yourself, I don’t think I need to tell you the power that it will wield over you all the next day!
And, when we’re talking about fondue, we’re not only talking about cheese’s power over our digestive process, along with the inevitable weight gain, we’re also talking about its ability to persuade us to pay a minimum of $80 per couple just to indulge in its unique dating and dipping restaurant atmosphere. We’re talking about its ability to make every 1980s American household, with an income of over $50,000, rush out and buy themselves and each of their friends an olive-green electric pot to melt cheese in, complete with faux wood skewers that were capped in rainbow colored plastic pieces.
To that last point, as I did not as of today, own a fondue pot, nor did I ever feel the need to own one, I zipped on over to Goodwill to pick up my mom’s old fondue pot that she donated back in 1989. I just knew somehow it would be there. It wasn’t. Fortunately, they did have my grand mother’s fondue pot, which required a can of sterno instead of an outlet, and it completely didn’t work because it either boiled the cheese, burning the bottom, or completely shut off when I tried to use the damper which would allow the cheese to solidify again.
You know, I like cheese fondue kind of, and I’ve had it a bunch of times. I always thought it was just melted cheese. Sure, it didn’t quite taste like plain old melted cheese, but… Well, I never knew till today that the reason it tasted so funky was because there is white wine and a bunch of weird spices in there. That’s actually how I know I made it right, because my daughter hated it even though cheese is the only thing she universally absolutely loves.
I’m pretty sure I’ll be redonating the pot to Goodwill tomorrow. If it can’t keep cheese warm without burning it, it’ll never work on chocolate, and if I wanted to cook meat in oil, I’d fry it. I couldn’t find the skewers anyway, not that a fork doesn’t work just as well. I know Goodwill doesn’t give refunds, but they do exchanges, and I could probably get a couple sweet pairs of jeans for eight bucks. Wait, that’s actually a little familiar for me. Maybe I’ll find another Halloween costume to archive in my closet. You know, just in case.
See you Thursday for National Liquorice Day!