Fondue Troubleshooting: Bacon + Fondue + Baby Brain

Posted on November 14, 2016 by Sarah

I’ve only had fondue once, that I can remember. It was in Paris on a trip with my dad and stepmom. They were treating me to a trip after I finished my degree back in 2001. We sat outside of a cafe, dipping and munching away. The bread, the cheese…in France? It doesn’t get much better than that.

So this may be why I never really revisited it. The idea of the Melting Pot never really appealed to me. Other than then cheese and the dessert courses, the idea of cooking my own dinner in a pot turns me off. Why go out to eat when you have to do the cooking?

But I love cheese. And I love bread.

So when confronted with a post about fondue for National Fondue month I knew I would want to stick to something traditional…with a slight twist. Well, maybe not so “twisty”. This is We The Eaters, after all, and our favorite thing is bacon.

It all sounds so comforting. And lately I need all the cheese wrapped comfiness I can get my mitts on. Just two weeks ago my tiny little son was born. Why am I even writing this? Well, in the midst of the time warp known as taking care of a newborn, I needed something normal. Not like go back to work normal, but something a little different than the never ending cycle of nursing and diapering. So please forgive the fogginess and potential misspellings in this post. I have toothpicks holding my eyes open at this point.

Thankfully Amy was able to dig up a recipe for bacon Brie fondue that I could use as a guide. Apparently Googling anything other than how to get a baby to latch correctly and how to know if he’s getting enough milk is way too much effort. Who knew that my whole world would be consumed with breast feeding?! Sorry friends and family for only talking about my boobs. And, of course, every little detail I’ve noticed about my tiny new boy.

With baby happily sleeping away in Grandma Troy’s arms I set to work on my cheesy experiment. Since we don’t fondue as a rule, I had to use a glass bowl over a pot of hot water, essentially a double boiler. So serving it wasn’t as fun as having a fondue pot stashed away in the back of the cabinet.

My sleep deprived brain kind of skipped some steps…and almost forgot the key ingredient: bacon! What did I get wrong? After stirring and melting in the shredded cheese, things looked good. And then I added the lemon juice and it broke. The consistency got thin on the top and chunky on the bottom. The flavor was amazing, but the texture was not that amazing silky, dippable cheese fondue is known for. It slid right off the crusty bread chunks and apple slices.

I found a cheese fondue troubleshooting guide and Serious Eats foolproof method. Both mention adding cornstarch to help thicken it, first by tossing the shredded cheese in the cornstarch and the other adding it as needed if too thin at the end. The other key to keeping the cheese thick and ensuring it doesn’t break is to keep the heat low and slowly adding the shredded cheese one handful at a time. All things I missed when I first attempted this.

Note to self, when trying something brand new, like fondue, read as much as you can! Don’t let baby brain fog your foodie brain.

Bacon and Brie Fondue
After some troubleshooting I think I have the recipe and method down. If too thick, add a little extra wine; if too thin, add a little extra cornstarch. And remember, keeping the heat low and melting slow is key!

1 garlic clove, cut in half
3/4 cup dry white wine
3 ounces soft Brie, rinds removed
1/2 shallot, finely chopped
1/2 cup gruyere, shredded
1/2 cup smoked gouda, shredded
1 tablespoon cornstarch
juice from 1/2 lemon
1/2 cup crumbled bacon
green onion, finely chopped

Rub the cut faces of the garlic clove around the inside of a double boiler or fondue pot. If using a double boiler, bring the water to a simmer and do not let the bowl come into contact with the water. Add the white wine and heat until steaming.

In a large bowl toss the shredded gruyere and gouda with the cornstarch to thoroughly coat.

Add shallots and Brie to the bowl or pot, then whisk until creamy and all combined.

Working over low heat, add shredded cheese one handful at a time, stirring until mostly melted. Continue until all the cheese is melted and the fondue is smooth and glossy. This may take about 10 minutes. Keep the heat below a simmer as cheese is added and melted, or else it may break!

Add a little of the lemon juice at a time, stirring as you go, to ensure the cheese does not break. You may not need all of the lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in the bacon.

Transfer to a serving dish or fondue pot. Top with green onions and serve with crusty bread and apple slices.

Tagged with: Bacon, brie, Cheese, fondue, gouda, gruyere, natonal fondue month
Posted in Dear Diary

Fondue Is Fun

Posted on November 7, 2016 by Amy

The title of this post was originally uttered to reassure my father, furious he’d just shelled out about $25 to $30 for each of us to eat—no, nibble—on a scantly portioned dinner at a fondue restaurant in a little town bordering Lake Tahoe.

“Fondue is fun,” my alternate mother chimed in, happily, in response to his irritation.

First off, my dad is not a stingy guy. I would not put it past the man who just took pasta cooking classes in the Italian countryside to shell out a few for a fine dining experience. He is, after all, this founding foodie’s father. (You didn’t think I got this raving desire for delectable things out of thin air, did you?!) But there’s another family trait that burns stronger yet: We are nothing if not a value-driven family.

It makes me crazy when I buy something and it falls apart after just a few uses. Take my new yoga pants for example. Frayed at the seam after having been worn only twice. Or my new Soma bra that has an underwire poking the crap out of my armpit after the same number of uses. Most people would just c‘est la vie this stuff right into the Goodwill pile. I take them back.

In fact, in my circle of friends, I am kind of know for this. Pals will call me to ask if I can help them return some not so built-to-last thing that always seems to break less than 24 hours post-viable return period. Sometimes it works… sometimes not. But my theory is that it never hurts to try.

But what do you do about restaurant bad service? Or worse, a terrible meal?

Sulk.

It sometimes feels like we have no recourse. Have you ever complained to restaurant management about something going wrong at your table? (I raise my hand, unashamedly.) And what has been the result?

For me, they vary widely. I find chain restaurants just shrug it off. You’re lucky if they offer you free dessert. But on occasion, something amazing happens. Like the time I was sent a $100 coupon to one of our favorite places to make up for a string of bad service. That’s the kind of place I go back to.

Any I think writing reviews is important… when things go wrong, but also when they go right. Can you imagine working in a place where you never got feedback that wasn’t negative? (Sadly, my hand is shooting up again.) Nobody wants that. So give kudos where kudos are due.

And remember … fondue is fun. You are out with your family, your friends, or people you are at least willing to be seen in public with to enjoy a night out. Be thankful and enjoy yourself.

National Fondue Month

In honor of National Fondue Month, we’ll be taking a November-long look at the stuff Swedes are made of. Excuse me, I mean DREAMS. I love fondue. Never had it? Here’s a brief tutorial and history.

The earliest record of fondue dates back to around 800 to 725 BC. Within the pages of Homer’s Iliad is the description of a dish which contains goat cheese, wine and flour.

In the late 17th century, the Swiss cookbook Kochbuch der Anna Margaretha Gessner, contained a recipe for what 18th century Swiss families living in remote villages considered a staple. With little access to fresh foods in winter, they used aged cheeses and bread to feed their families. The problem was, the more aged, the harder they became, and thus more difficult to eat. If cheese was heated, however, and combined with wine, garlic and other herbs, stale bread could be dipped in to be softened and (deliciously, in my opinion) consumed. Fast forward to the 1930s when fondue was formally popularized after the the Schweizerische Käseunion (a.k.a. the Swiss Cheese Union, a.k.a. the cheese cartel … yes, it is really believed a conspiracy) named it the country’s national dish.

But there are other types of fondue, including cooking meats and vegetables in oil or broth. The origin of meat Fondue, or Fondue Bourguignonne, hails to the Middle Ages in the French region of Burgundy, where vineyard workers in the fields all day would boil a pot of oil to cook pieces of meat. We owe the French for modern cheese fondue as well, the ooey gooey melted stuff mixed with wine and served over an open flame. That dates to the late 1800s and originated near the Geneva border in the French Rhône-Alpes.

Let’s not forget Asia! Fondue Court Bouillon, a lighter version of meat fondue, originated there. The liquid used to cook in this style of fondue is broth. Don’t let me get started on chocolate fondue, which must have been born in America, where all naughty things come from.

So grab a pot and melt some Gruyere… this is just starting to get good!

Tagged with: broth, Cheese, cooking for a group, eating out, fondue, gruyere, meat, oil, party, swedish, swiss, warm meals, wine
Posted in Dear Diary

To Cook With A Book, Or Not… THAT Is The Question

Posted on October 31, 2016 by Stacey

“You learn to cook so that you don’t
have to be a slave to recipes.
You get what’s in season and
you know what to do with it.”
~ Julia Child

I have always followed this philosophy about cooking, which my very small collection of twenty cookbooks reflects.

Then why would I want to write a blog post about cookbooks? For the same reason I like to believe that I keep getting invited back to write for We The Eaters: I hope I represent a demographic of readers that align with this perspective.

My only thought, as I flip through the colorful, enticing and inspirational pages is, “Why buy a whole book, when odds are I’ll only utilize a handful of the recipes and it takes up space?” Mind you, this logic does not prevent me from giving them as gifts. Nor does it stop me from getting lost in some book nook, while slowly strolling through the pages of these instructional, glossy tomes, where the pictures within and the aroma of coffee in the air aim at lulling you into a purchase.

To be honest, I tend to be very practical when it comes to buying anything… except food.

My approach to cookbooks is similar to that of people in grocery store lines who thumb through issues of Us Weekly or People Magazine while waiting in line, putting it back when it’s time to check out rather than purchasing it. Let me just take a peek and if there is something that grabs my attention. I can always look it up later or ask a friend what they know about it. So I close the cover and walk away, leaving no trace. I do not bend the pages, leave ﬁngerprints or crinkle the cover as I put it back on the shelf. That’s out of respect for all you cookbook-obsessed.

Though I fancy myself a cook, NOT a baker, seven of my twenty cookbooks are about baking. Baking is about being exact and delivering beauty through distinct methods. It is kind of like dancing the tango, where technique and timing are everything. The baking cookbooks that I do have parallel my values about loving being in the kitchen and respect my lack of appreciation for the need to stay the course. In short, they set me up to succeed every time. These seven books have many fingerprints, crinkled pages and notes written in them margins. The authors range from old school maven Julia Child and British chef Nigella Lawson, to a lovely French author, Beatrice Peltre, as well as an immensely talented woman I am proud to know, Paula Shoyer. Her book “The Kosher Baker” is not just for the Jew in you. It’s ideal if you are lactose intolerant, like I am.

When I am in the kitchen, I want to disconnect from all outside stress. My goal is to get lost in the rhythm of chopping and dicing, or find myself keenly aware of the melody that occurs when deglazing a hot pan, mostly because part of what I value in cooking is the opportunity to create, design and connect with the experience.

That said, I do like finding inspiration in cookbooks and am fond of food porn in general. So before I actually build a plan for a menu or a shopping list for a weekend of cooking, I surf a web site (or three), an Instagram account or a few food blogs to see catches my eye and makes my tummy growl. I skim recipes for techniques I have not employed in ages, or ingredients I forgot existed because they were out of season. Then I prepare my menu and shopping list.

Only after the dishwasher is running, all the leftovers are packed away and I have changed into what I call my “fat pants,” do I sit down in the silence that is now my kitchen, with my almost empty wine glass to assess each recipe I’ve made. If I feel it was noteworthy, I pull my big, generic black binder out along with a three hole punch and put it into permanent rotation.

I save the menus, along with notes written all over the margins. Inevitably, someone will bring an amazing Rioja that was the perfect compliment to the duck ragu. Or a guest brought a dessert that I loved, but will never make. Or I had an idea during the meal that could be fun to try if I make one of the dishes again.

Honestly though, I save the menus because — like photos — they remind me of the amazing joy that I experienced in relation to that menu, with wonderful people. And no matter how much I try, I can never recreate that exact moment… even if I have the exact recipe.

Tagged with: Baking, cookbooks, cooking, food, inspiration, julia child, kosher, menu planning, party planning, philosophy
Posted in Dear Diary