Getting Back to My Roots with Comte Fondue

'I don't like cheese.'
Said no-one, ever

When Megan (blogger at Got To Be Gourmet meets PR extraordinaire) from MBA asked me if I'd like to receive some Comte cheese to make a recipe for Mothers Day (#MothersDaytheComteWay, can I replace Mothers Day with any holiday, or just you know a Monday. Let's be honest it doesn't even need to be a Monday), I had to think for 0 seconds. In what has to be the quickest reply email I've ever sent, I played it cool and said sure why not. I totally played it cool. 100%. Like an iceberg. I can tell you I didn't reply and out myself as a 'big' cheese fan, or you know go down the whole I'm Swiss so give me the cheese route (why do the Swiss only get aggressive over cheese?), and I definitely did not follow up anxiously when I had yet to receive said cheese...two days after receiving Megan's initial email. So yeah I'm the picture of cool.

Assurance of me being cool aside, I really love cheese, it's a family weakness (at least on the maternal side, who knows about paternal, who cares? No one, moving on). Being French Swiss, my family is full of cheese lovers, my Grandmere's favourite is Comte, my mum's Gruyere, and I can't choose a fave (I'm like Brucey on Strictly Come Dancing, they're all my favourites). So every time we make fondue the fight goes down about what cheese we should use. It normally ends up being a combination of Gruyere and Emmental, Comte and Emmental, or a mix of all three (who's bringing the Emmental to the table, nobody knows) depending on who's cooking. But having spoken to my Grandmere only the night before about how much she misses Comte and having sampled how good the Comte was that Megan sent me (plus you know, Mothers Day, and my mothers certainly love fondue), I decided to make a Comte fondue all on it's lonesome (sorry Mum) and it was, in my boyfriend's words, the best fondue he's ever had. Which actually could be seen as kind of rude about my Grandmere and Mum's cooking, albeit one time my mum had a bit too much wine before making the fondue and used red wine instead (JUST NO), but you know what I'm not going to complain because it really was the best fondue I've had in ages. And I friggin made it. Me. The least Swiss person in my family of Swissanites.

No words can describe the amount of national pride I'm feeling right now.

Black Forest Brownies

I know what you're thinking. These look like they were made for Valentines Day and posted late. You'd be wrong my friend, although it is true I made these brownies on Valentines Day, I made them to try and combat the joyous activity my boyfriend had planned for both of us...a 5k (almost, 4 and a bit doesn't sound as good as 5) run round the lake. Perhaps to some this sounds romantic, a lovely jog together, serenading each other as we stride side by side; to me this sounds like the end of our 8 year relationship together (I'm kidding/waiting to see whether we have to go for another run next Sunday).

The truth is I really want to enjoy running. I really do. And I want to have the flattest stomach this side of instagram. But I also really want to eat brownies, in my pyjamas, all day. Which is why my washboard stomach and abs of steel (they are there!) are hidden behind, what I can only describe as, my brownie belly. Ok, really it's a brownie/burger belly but let's leave something to the imagination. So when Dan (my main manfriend and possible ex manfriend if the running continues) suggested we go running on Valentines Day, I don't think I've ever moved so fast to eat a brownie in my life and then feign not being able to run because I'd just eaten. This horrifically backfired when I was pushed out of the house, being made to run 5 whole k (overdoing it now) and resulted in me feeling like I might regurgitate said brownie at any point. Not a great result. But really when it comes down to it you know who I blame? Myself, for telling Dan about my secret ambition to run 10k this year (for all you fitness fanatics this is probably easy as pie [mmm pie] but I tend to hit a wall after 7K, and want to sit on the floor and cry, preferably while being fed trifle).

Getting my Swiss on at Truc Vert's Raclette Night

I don't think it's a secret that I love cheese. 

Felicity, They Called It The Diamond Blog

You know some people say they love cheese but then there are people that are in love with cheese. I fall firmly into the latter category. It's in my blood, with my Swiss heritage and all. And then this is when it gets weird. Despite being Swiss and loving cheese, I have never had Raclette. I've felt ashamed about it for ages, but my family are all firm fondue fans so it never gets a look in at home. My mum said she had a Raclette gizmo once, but if it ever existed it lies sadly forgotten in a house where dipping into cheese is central to our well-being. When I asked my Grandmere about Raclette once, she said she didn't like it so if I wanted to try it I'd have to go elsewhere, wagwan this is a fondue house gurl (ok she left off the gurl but you get the jist). So when the lovely people behind Truc Vert (aka Frankie, Russell and Louise) asked me if I'd like to come and try out their Raclette Wednesday Night (now also held on Saturdays!) I was intrigued. Then when they said Sophie, Gianni and a bottle of wine were coming I was more than willing to cast my fellow Swiss fam's feelings aside and open myself up to this cheesy event. 

First off, I'd been invited to Truc Vert a while before, where me and a table of ladies and gents sampled their tasting menu (read about it here, it was absolutely delicious), so I already knew it was going to be good, but I couldn't contain my excitement about the spread that was placed before us. To give you an idea, all that food was there to feed four of us and there was tons. If it wasn't for my carefully concealed cheese stomach, I'm not sure we would have finished it.