Tag Archives: food

Foody alert: easy faux fondue toast

Don't have a fondue pot?  No worries.A year after I graduated from college, I backpacked by train through Europe with a girlfriend.  It was a five-week whirlwind: we visited Frankfurt, Florence, Venice, Corfu, Athens, Salzburg, Amsterdam, Interlaken, Switzerland, and a charming town in France whose name I’m forgetting, staying mainly in youth hostels.  I turned 23 at the Pink Palace on Corfu: no togas that I recall, but many shots of ouzo, and many subsequent plates smashed over my head.  At the time, I was a developing (vs. full-on) foody, but tonight I was yanked back decades and miles by an accidental flavor.

My friend K. and I stayed at a cozy, relaxing hostel in Interlaken with a modest dining room.  Interlaken, after the previous slew of cities, was like a mental rest, and we decided to stay most of a week.  Now, aside from the exhalation and the beautiful hikes and views, I remember most fondly the fondue.  It was such a casual thing there, not a production, simply part of the daily eating process, available downstairs in our momentary home.  I’ve tried to make fondue a few times since, and it’s been okay, but tonight I stumbled upon a great and easy way to fake it. Let’s call it an homage to fondue.

Here’s what to do:

1.  Get some cave-aged gruyere.  I don’t know why being aged in a cave is important, but you don’t have to go to a cave to get it–it’s everywhere these days, and it worked in this case.  (I used Trader Joe’s gruyere, but I’m sure any decent gruyere will do.)

2. Peel a clove of garlic.  (You might need more than one clove, depending on how much toast you are making.)

3.  Toast some slices of bread.  I used a good multigrain, bought from Emporium in Yellow Springs.  (Note: I often slice and freeze bread, then toast it unwrapped, or heat it, wrapped in foil, to good effect.  But for this project, you need to toast the bread fairly crispy.)  It might be good with white bread, but make sure it’s something with body.  Wimpy or mediocre bread would wilt under the next steps.

4. Rub the garlic clove on the bread, effectively worrying the garlic down to a nub–sort of a way of grating and distributing the garlic on the bread.  The garlic clove should disappear onto the bread.  (You’ll find if the bread is not toasty enough, it won’t have a rough enough surface to do the magic of grating the garlic onto the surface.  Experiment.)

5. Shred a generous amount of gruyere onto each piece of garlicked toast, and broil it–in oven or toaster-oven–until it’s melty and bubbly but not overly browned.

6. Eat it.  I bet it’s even more reminiscent of fondue if accompanied by a glass of wine, but it works fine on its own with a bowl of soup.

(For another wonderful (vegan) treat, you could stop after rubbing the garlic on toast, drizzle olive oil, salt and pepper to taste.)

Mmm, cheese…

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Avena con leche y miel by any other name…

One locale, in Merida Mexico, to get avena con leche y miel.

(Another post about what I eat for breakfast!  Possible boredom ahead!)

I love Mark Bittman.  I was sad when I learned of his stepping away from the Minimalist column, but he’s still around, and freer to opine.  I’m loving him even more.  Take, for instance, his opinionator blog post about McDonald’s oatmeal, from which I excerpt the following:

Others will argue that the McDonald’s version is more “convenient.” This is nonsense; in the time it takes to go into a McDonald’s, stand in line, order, wait, pay and leave, you could make oatmeal for four while taking your vitamins, brushing your teeth and half-unloading the dishwasher.

(Thanks, by the way, to Jennifer New at Mothers of Invention for sharing Bittman’s post, which I might have missed.)  Bittman’s comment made me laugh, but it’s also kinda creepy because I think he’s been surveilling my home.  This describes most mornings in my house, except that he didn’t mention the three-year-old on the step ladder, helping make the “avena con leche y miel” which is what we call it, or “avena,” which was one of the first Spanish words my child learned.  (I’ll explain why another time.)

Anyway, yeah, what Bittman said.  Oatmeal has gotten a bad rap, and it’s easy to make, and good for you.  Eat it!  You can even throw in a handful of cooked brown rice for extra chewy texture.  Mmm, oatmeal!

“Bacon is a cured meat prepared from a pig.”

So says Wikipedia’s entry on bacon.

This morning, after my daughter learned that her father was thawing bacon for breakfast, she came to me and said, “When I have bacon I always know what is on bacon and I really like bacon.”

In order to evolve as a human, there’s surely an internal logic in that sentence that I must understand.