You know what's ridiculous... what's down right un-LPV-like? The fact that it's the middle of January, and I have yet to blog about a single Raclette. It's HOGWASH! It's not that we haven't been Racletting, because we have, loads of times. There was even a week back in late November that we Racletted three times and I was practically 98% cheese, I just haven't felt like blogging about any of these Raclettes.
So today I thought I'd blog about my very first Raclette experience which also happens to be one of my first big French family dinners. Except I'm not really blogging about it, I already did that, I'm re-posting it because since it was originally posted all the way back in 2009, most of you wouldn't have read it anyway (except for you Mom... hi Eilo). Without further ado, I give you The Raclette Party & The Plonk.
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|This photo is so wonderfully old! I love it because 1. I'm totally overdressed for The LPV (I hadn't learned yet) and 2. this is back when my French was still so bad that I used dogs to distract me from the conversation.|
I should have known it was too good to be true... free wine. HA!
A couple of weeks ago when I found out that Tuesdays were pizza night in Le Petit Village, I also discovered that after purchasing four pizzas you can either have a free bottle of coke or a free bottle of wine. Happy days... Coke or Wine? This is not a tough decision.
So last Tuesday when the boyfriend picked up our pizzas (because I was too scaredy cat to do it myself) he also came home with our first free with pizza bottle of wine. I decided to leave the free bottle for a semi-special occasion. (Free with pizza - not exactly expecting Montrachet, but being in France, not exactly expecting plonk either).
Friday night turned out to be that semi-special occasion.
Papa and his Wife were hosting a Raclette Party for The Boyfriend and I, Boyfriend's Brother, his girlfriend, and some German friends who were visiting.
Sidebar - a Raclette Party is similar to a Fondue Party, lots of meats and veggies that can be put on individual mini skillets with oodles of cheese and cooked in small grills setup on the table. If you like meat, and you like cheese, especially of the melted variety, then this party is for you.
Never wanting to show up empty handed, I asked The Boyfriend if he would pick up some nice flowers, chocolates, or Champagne on his way home from work. Well The Boyfriend showed up home empty handed. When I asked what it was we would bring with us, he grabbed the free with pizza bottle of wine. Eyeing the bottle suspiciously, I was skeptical but knew that at this point it was our only choice.
We arrived at the house and handed the free bottle of red to Papa. He too eyed it suspiciously and set in on the counter. DRATS! Maybe Papa is familiar with what the free with pizza bottle of wine looks like. Trying to remember that it's the thought that counts, I told myself that at least we didn't show up empty handed.
Well The German's hands were full... Black Forest gummy bears, a slab of smoked ham, and a bottle of Rosé. Hmmm... so many lovely presents for their French friends, what could they possibly be over compensating for I wonder? Hmmm...
Now my free with pizza bottle looked really pathetic so when The German opened the bottle of Rosé I eagerly stuck out my empty glass and tried to hide the free bottle in the corner.
Everyone arrived and the Raclette got into full swing. We sat around the table busily grilling, talking and eating. My favorite dog Ruby was there, who likes me now by the way, but that could be because after every couple of bites, I would give Ruby a bit of cheese rind. Ruby loves cheese. Not surprised really, he is French.
The Rosé now long gone, we moved on to a couple bottles of white that went perfectly with the cheeses. Too perfectly in fact, because they were gone far too quickly and the next thing I knew, The German had grabbed the free with pizza bottle of red and was opening it.
This is not good, I thought. And oh how I was right, no it wasn't. It seemed like everyone, including me, took their first sip at the same time and the reactions around the table were all in unison... it was a nose crinkling, lips pursing, quick head shake kind of movement. Not good. Total humiliation. And then the biggest insult of all... Papa's Wife collected all of our glasses and the last bit in the bottle, and poured it all into the big jar of left over wine that she uses to make vinegar. There's never a rock to climb under when you need one.