When it comes to health, cooking and boyfriends. I’m all about worst case scenarios. I think it’s my way of protecting myself from disappointment and tragedy. Expect the worst and you’re pleasantly surprised by anything less than a total catastrophe.
That was my approach to our dinner party Saturday night when the FC and I decided to invite a couple of friends over, last minute. Instead of planning out a complicated meal we decided to finally use up the two packages of instant fondue we brought home from France over Christmas. The FC picked up some mixed greens, day old baguette for dipping and two bottles of white wine.
Naturally, I was dubious about the instant fondue. When Georgia and Gerardo arrived, I warned them, “The fondue is from a package, so keep your expectations low.” The FC frowned. He hates it when I undersell things before knowing the results. He prefers to be optimistic; a ray of golden light in my dark cave of Libran negativity.
In the case of our dinner, the FC proved right. With a fresh salad, the fondue made a superb dinner for four. Fun, tasty, and totally stress-free. In fact, the cooking-challenged FC made the fondue all by himself (I just added fresh sauteed mushrooms for texture.) We even improvised a fondue warmer by putting three tealights under one of the removable grills from my gas stove. In lieu of fondue forks, we used long stainless steel barbeque skeweres for dipping.
Here’s the amazing thing about instant food: when it’s good, everyone is as impressed as if it were homemade. They ask to see the package, they marvel at how easy it was, and, as Georgia did, they insist you bring back more from France the next time you go. The FC also shared a French fondue tradition; when you lose your bread in the fondue, you’re supposed to kiss the person on your right. (Seating plans are obviously crucial in this game.)
The moral of the story? Never underestimate the French (the food, or The French Cutiepie.)