Say Cheese

I think, in the end, you're either a fondue person or you're not.

Mostly, I've been a "not."  A surprising number of our friends, it seems, are not, in fact, "nots."  This has come to my attention because I was reminded this afternoon that weeks ago I'd agreed to attend a fondue party, one organized by a group of friends and acquaintances from Sandlands days who all happen to be here in Our Nation's Capital this month.  I'd accepted assuming either that they would come to their senses and we would just go for a drink at some pub or that all involved would in the meantime have completely forgotten about it all.  No such luck.

It turns out that there are even still fondue restaurants, to one of which we will repair this evening.  Who knew?  I thought they had gone the way of avocado-and-harvest-gold kitchens, double-knit suits, and eagerly awaited seasonal print catalogues.  I was wrong, and now I will be paying for it.  Maybe I'll like the whole concept better than I have on previous occasions, but I'm doubtful at best.

Wish us luck.