Fondue or Fondon't?

The weather has turned and the temperature has dipped here in Switzerland and for most Swiss people this usually means one thing. It's Fondue time (actually in reality they usually wait for snow but I am inpatient). 

Husband took me out to the Fribourg Fondue Stubli for my first ever fondue. All in all it was a really pleasurable experience at the time, the taste; delicious, the process; fun, the long tiny forks, super cute. At the time I say because when we got home later that night and I tried sleep it was an altogether different experience indeed but I will come back to that in a minute.

Whilst it was just the two of us and a little bit of a 'date night', I truly warmed to the overall fondue dining delight and loved the comunal aspect of this Swiss staple. I definitely want to return again with a large group of friends in tow and try a few of those great fondue games and forfeits (first person to drop their bread into the pot has to buy a round of drinks or take a shot). Sounds like a blast. 

The staff at the restaurant were incredibly friendly and it worked out at about 100 francs in total which is not too pricy and left two very full Irish bellies. 

Then when we got home, the horror began. They say that during dipping you shouldn't drink any water as it's said to coagulate the warm cheese inside your stomach (said by in the know Swissians but not proven by any such actual science). Mistake Number 1.

They also say (don't ask me who they are) that if you are feeling stuffed that you should down what is called a 'Norman Hole' (I swear I did not make this up) which is a shot of high octane liquor, often an apple brandy and it's said to burn a hole in your stomach. I did not do this. Mistake Number 2.

It was lying on my stomach, overheating, unable to sleep at 3:00 am that I began to realise that I might not have put in the proper research and preparation into my first fondue. For I as an Irish, believed I had the stomach of an ox. I've polished of whole bottles of whiskey and have trouble even remembering the last time I threw up. But my iron stomach was turned to rust by this pot of bubbling cheese. Oh folly!

The next day saw me wondering aimlessly about the apartment in a sort of cheese hangover. There really is no poignant or eloquent way of saying this so I will just say it in over exaggerated vulgarity. 

FARTS!

This cheese makes one cut some serious cheese the day following. Your lingering cloud of fondue follows you where ever you go. And I thought the after effects of a night on the Guinness was bad.     

Husband was fine and worries that I am now a 'Fondon't' but in reality the good way outweighed the bad for me (I mean it's a pot of melted cheese, it's like it was made for me). So I will fondue again. Just don't be offended if I don't want to hang the day after. 

  

GBM