Sunday is Cheeseday

Just as last Sunday I was stuffing myself with the wonderful gooey goodness of the Raclette, yesterday we indulged in cheese again, but this time in the form of the Fondue.

Clermont was playing Leinster in Rugby. And since The Husband's home team was playing my Dublin team we had to do something. Melting cheese seemed like the right thing to do. Voila... Fondue.
(And when is melting cheese not the right thing to do?)

But because I am without a fondue pot and Honey Jr is not, he scored an invitation to our teeny tiny fondue party. Plus he's a wonderful distraction for Fifty. In Fifty's eyes, Honey Jr is a big bonbon.

Emmental, Comté, and Beaufort cheeses were shredded into the pot, with a bit of flour, a pinch of paprika, and a glug of wine and then stirred stirred and stirred until it all blended together into deliciousness. Then a bit of baguette is stuck on the end of the fondue fork and dipped into the pot until covered and dripping with cheese.

 

{before and after dipping}

We cheered on the rugby sipping beer and dipping the bread until no more dipping could be done. Well except for The Husband. The Husband does not get full as quickly (RE: Food Whore). And because subtlety is not his forté, he picked up the pot and ditched the fondue fork.

{me like food}

Which totally reminded me of another adorable Food Whore...

{source}

But at least The Husband is wearing pants. 

bisou