Some days I think I should be French. No, not for the Breton top or the ban on work calls after 6pm, but for the 3 simple life pleasures. Bread, cheese and wine. If there wasn't such a big hoo ha over balanced diets I would live alone on these 3 things.
So when someone says lets go eat a dinner made purely of cheese? Well who cares if its not French, I am there faster than a Parisian lady running for the Chanel sample sale.
St Moritz is London's oldest Swiss restaurant specialising is cheese fondue. For anyone living under a rock, cheese fondue is essentially a vat of molten cheese served in a communal pot over a small camp fire like stove which is eaten by dipping bread speared forks with bread into it.
The Swiss are so taken with this that it was promoted to a national dish in the 1930s. Well if its good enough for a whole nation, its sure good enough for me.
However, my French ambitions need not be dashed, as Switzerland is heavily influenced by French culture, so we started with some rather traditional starters. If you are squeamish, you might want to scroll a couple of photos down.
Frogs legs in tomato and garlic sauce.
I've always wanted to try those little amphibian critters, more just to say I've tried them. Without sounding like a typical Brit, frigs legs do rather taste like chicken. Sacre Bleu!
What a fine pair of legs!
To keep up our traditional fair, we also had snails in garlic butter. Again, for want of a better description, they are rather like mushrooms. Well I never claimed to be anything but a Brit...
Pft! Can't take her anywhere!
However, it was this beast that we all really came to try.
A giant vat of molten Gruyere and Vacherin cheese. Bubbling, oozing, melting hot mess. Oh baby!
With hunks of crusty bread and potatoes, it was time to get dipping.
The fondue was pretty fun (and messy) but we soon hit a bit of a cheese wall. Maybe I couldn't quite live on just bread and cheese after all. But throw in a bar of Swiss chocolate and now I think I could live quite content.