This Reminds Me

I have long admired and appreciated Keith’s ability to transform the ordinarary into the extraordinary.  When he offered to fix lunch Sunday, my (germ-filled) mind thought, “Okay.  Lunch.”  I should have been thinking, “Ooookayyy!  Lunch!”

Somehow I missed his recent purchase of a fondue pot.  I’m not quite sure where he stored it – perhaps between our swatches of green shag carpet and my groovy paper mini-skirts.  Like crazy, man.

We feasted on bread bits swirled in Swiss Fondue, followed by chunks of fresh fish, shrimp and vegetables simmered in Keith’s own mixture of cider and spices.

Keith built our kitchen table, BTW, from floorboards he removed from a friend’s tear-down house.  Note the festive post-Christmas clearance Welch’s sparkling grape juice (hic.)  Yes, Rachel, the cheese is h-o-t.

Weapons of Mass Fondue’ing.  Julia and Rachel were all about the forks.

When we thought we couldn’t eat another bite – out came dessert – fresh fruit and chocolate cherry bread chunks to dip into Chocolate Fondue. We all found room.

Julia and Hannah required post-fondue baths.  Her chocolate-smeared face and clothes reminded me of Mother’s Day in Moscow last year.

We haven’t had this much fun with a meal since New Year’s Eve – and that’s only once a year!   Sock it to me!  We’re doing this again.  Soon.

We really need a second fondue pot to do it right.  One for yellow cheese and one for white cheese; one for fish and one for meat; one for chocolate and one for (ummmm) caramel.  So, now I’ve ordered a fondue pot.  And I’ll know just where to put it - right under my “All the Way with LBJ” poster.  Dig it?

Peace.  Love.  And Fondue to you.