And the wine? I’m interested because it seems like a perfect dish for the culinary-challenged types such as I…

And by the way…The burner stove you’ve prepared it on: looks like it came straigh out of the “Hopelessly-Romantic’s Outdoor&Mountain Equipment Catalog” ….:D

PS: I know…but i just couldn’t refrain myself.

I felt compulsed to write a corolary to your all-in-all detailed culinary advices, as a warning for all of those that will try to put them into practice…

Long story short, last night after returning from the office I found myself gazing upon the almost empty shelves of my refrigerator. I say “almost empty” for the sole reason of being exact in my report,although what I had in there were only scarce remnants of previous meals that would not even tempt a famished Senegalese youngling after a fortnight of compulsory fasting. And even though I fancy myself quite an outdoorsman, “trained to live off the land and eat things that would make a billy goat puke” I also try to make a habit of not getting food intoxication more than once a month.

The idea of preparing this quick snack with a very pretentious name came to me after I remembered both of the recipe and the existence of a three day old loaf of white bread and a bottle of white dry wine that I never got around drinking…( because as any self respecting male representative of my species, I may not have anything to eat except breadcrumbs, but my stock of alcoholic beverages is extensive…)
That being said, after a quick scavenging incursion at the corner grocery store I returned with a pack of what I would describe as “the closest thing to melty cheese there was to buy in a place that sales everything from chainsaw parts to fine pastry”.

I got myself the appropriate tools, and set forth to preparing your highly-praised “fondue”. I poured the wine into a pot, together with small pieces of cheese ( the quantities being set by the most exact instrument I had available, which is my keen eyesight) and lit the fire underneath. Then sliced the bread into small and almost rectangular pieces.

After five minutes of stirring the wine and the cheese together I observed not only that they had no intention of binding to each other, but the cheese soon melted into small islands of fatty matter that weren’t looking extremely appetizing. I guessed the problem stood with the quantity of cheese and put more into the pot, continuing to stir for another five minutes or so…During this time, the air in my kitchen became heavy with something slightly resembling grated cheese odor, but would surely have made frenchman’s nosehairs curl…Scared at the perspective of not being able to get rid of the smell, I swiftly decided to relocate my experiments to the balcony, using my trusty gasoline fueled burner stove ( a remant of the cold war period, handmade by my great-uncle in his army days, wich used it with great succes until his untimely death god-rest-his-soul on wich occasion it was passed down to me, as being the only mountain-addict in the family) as a fire source…

The whole operation of filling the stove’s small reservoir with gasoline and lighting it took me about three minutes during wich the cheese hardened into a small cap over the heated wine ( wich by the way gave off a considerable amount of alcohol fumes which would have made an alcoholic’s mouth water).I put the pot on the burner stove and went to wash my hand of the few drops of gasoline I spilled during the whole setting up my balcony field-kitchen and upon my return I noticed the mix of wine and cheese
slowly oozing over the pot’s edge and dripping onto the table. I then extinguished the stove, and tried to swipe-off the extremely hot “fondue” using, as a vivid proof of my superior intellectual capacities, the edge of my bare hand. The result was that a pungent smell of spilled over gasoline added to the already delirious mix of olfactive experiences….

That being the situation, I renounced my culinary pretenses and, pushed on by hunger, I decided to spread the melted cheese onto some slices of bread , surrounded by the gasoline and alcohol fumes wich to me emanated the scent of adventure.

Bottom line?

THE FONDUE IS A LIE!!!