The fondue pot is hot again
Fondue pots, popular wedding gifts in the 1960s, became culinary cliches within a decade, and later faded almost completely from the table. But if you didn't sell your fondue pot at your last tag sale and it's still gathering dust in the back of a cabinet, pull it out. Or go get one. Fondue is making a resurgence.
If figures from the past holiday season are any indication, people all over the Boston area are enjoying fondue this winter. Sales of pots were strong at both
Cheese fondue is the most popular fondue, though lately you can find dessert fondues of melted chocolate and fondues of warm oil mixtures, some of which resemble the famous Italian bagna cauda. The appeal of the dish is the communal way it's served. There is something compelling about sitting around with your friends, spearing cubes of bread on the end of long forks, cloaking the cubes in soft, warm cheese, and popping them into your mouth. It's an adult version of toasting marshmallows, and the convivial atmosphere around the dish makes an unhurried evening.
Cyrille and Carole Kuhn, Parisians who live in Winchester, host at least one fondue party every year, with "two or three pots and lots of friends." Cyrille Kuhn has been making fondue since his early bachelor days. His family spent winter vacations at his godfather's chalet in the Alps. "It is the perfect food for recovering when you have a day of skiing," he says.
The first gathering Kuhn hosted when he got his own apartment was a fondue party. "I thought of fondue because it's easy and it's fun." But he didn't know exactly how to make the dish, which isn't difficult but has a tendency to separate when melted. "It was a disaster," he recalls. The cheese never reached the right consistency. "Everybody called their mothers to see what to do to fix it. We tried adding flour, putting it in the oven. Nothing worked."
The trick to a smooth melted cheese mixture, says The Wine Cellar general manager Thierry Charles, is to use the lowest setting on the stove and when the liquid begins to separate from the cheese, stir in a little cornstarch. In the Back Bay restaurant, which specializes in fondue, cooks add a small amount of creme fraiche as well. The thick French cream, which resembles sour cream, helps stabilize the mixture. Charles advises removing the pot from the stove as soon as you add the cornstarch, and transferring the melted cheese to a fondue pot. At that point, "if you keep the temperature too hot, it will separate again," he says.
For Charles, who grew up in Nice in the south of France, the appeal of fondue is that it's fun. At home, a fondue gathering allows the host to enjoy the company. "You can spend hours with your guests," he says. "The food doesn't go away and it doesn't get cold." Few menus encourage the same casualness.
If you're looking for fondue etiquette, you can find some tips in "The Fondue Rule Book," first published in 1962 by Vincent Zarrilli, who founded The Pot Shop, Boston's first gourmet kitchenware store, in 1959. "When we opened, the only people who knew about [fondue] were those wealthy enough to travel to Switzerland. I knew people would be interested in it if it got promoted as a party." The book covers everything from where to serve fondue (the living room) to when to start the party (after dark).
The book does not mention what to do if your fondue separates. Charles notes reassuringly, "it will still be delicious." And you will be among friends.
You can always do what Cyrille Kuhn's guests did years ago during his bachelor days, when nothing would help his cheesy mixture: They ate the bread. 