Fondue has got to be one of the funnest foods of all time. It’s a social food that basically forces you to interact with your fellow diners as you cook your meal. I suppose, in a way, it’s like a slightly classy campfire. (Not that campfires can’t be classy!)
And being fun and social, I couldn’t not go when I was invited to a friend’s house for fondue last night. Only they called it fundue, which made me smile—a lot! Growing up, fondue was on the menu a couple of times a year (or more). And in all of that time, I’ve never once called it fundue. I can’t believe that such a fun pun was missed. I’m saddened by the lost years, but I will be sure to have fundue from now on!
Also, when we were kids, there were little penalties for dropping your bread into the pot of cheese. Simple things like having to kiss the person to your right or left (on the cheek) or maybe having to say something nice to them instead. (I still remember one of my older sisters used to get so mad about that part!)
Our fundue evening began with a fantastic cheese sauce that we dipped rye bread into (another missed food!) then we moved on to meats dipped into broth followed by fruit and marshmallows dipped in chocolate. And throughout the evening, we chatted and laughed.
It was a great evening and really reminded me of some of the bits from the Homeland that I miss: Easy conversations about cultural memories from similar youths; “he’s related to her by this person” explanations; shared experiences of small town, redneck upbringings. Yes, another bitter-sweet reminder of my torn existence of an expat!