Lesson #2 : How to Cut The Cheese

I just returned from a whirlwind tour of three French speaking countries (Switzerland, France, Canada).  And while I have an enormous list of things I would like to write about, I want to start with one of the oddest and most gluttonous food experiences I have ever had (and for those of you who have read my previous entries, yes, this does include the testicles).  Without further adieu, I introduce you to "La Table a Raclette" just outside Geneva, Switzerland in St.Julien en Genevois.  A place that smells like the cheese was cut over and over and over again.... and that's because it was.  Specifically, huge wheels of the local specialty cheese, Raclette, simply cut in half made to serve two people, but which could easily serve ten.

Raclette, is basically melted cheese that you scrape onto your plate as it melts in real time at your table.  The name is derived from the French word "racler" which romantically means "to scrape".  Mmmmmm... scrapy cheese.  Delish.          

The Raclette is an aged cows milk cheese that is semi hard and pressed into 6 kg wheels... for you Americans out there, thats 13 pounds!  And we were given 1/2 a wheel.  6 pounds of cheese.  I know I have said this before... but I can hardly think of anything more vomitous.  Thankfully, we were recommended some great local Chignin wine of the Savoie region of France, made from the Jacquere grape.  It paired very nicely with cheese for several reasons.  First, it was acidic enough to cut through some of the fat.  Second, it had a nuttiness that complimented the earthiness if the cheese.  And Third, we were told that the alcohol would make the cheese digest better. I'm not sure about that last one, though.  I was constipated for two days following this meal.

What is most interesting about this specialty is how it is served.  I have had do-it-yourself Korean BBQ (where there really is nothing do-it-yourself about it since they bring you the raw meat and then put it on the grill for you and don't leave you the f--k alone to cook it yourself anyhow.....and even Fondue of both the cheese and oil varieties, where cooking or finishing the food yourself seems fun... at least at first, until you burn yourself with molten oil or stain your new shirt with cheese)  But this craziness called Raclette has an apparatus you must use which is nearly impossible to describe other than to say that it looks like you are playing Hangman with a wheel of cheese.  Only the cheese doesn't stand a chance and the only guessing you are doing is how in the hell two or even three people could finish this damn thing... and no one is writing down letters or frawing little stick figures because there is no time to waste in between cheese meltings or you risk burning it.  Burn, baby... Burn.

There is no recipe for the Raclette.  It is the accoutrements that make the meal a real meal.  Gerkin pickles, sliced cured meats like parma ham, procuitto, and copa, and boiled potatoes.  Mash the potatoes, scrape the cheese onto them, eat.  Repeat.  And don't forget to drink your wine in the meantime.

We Topped off the meal with a glass of Genepi, a digestif made from local plants from the Alps.  When we were all done, and there was still 1/2 the food left on the table, I did what any one would do (or at least cheap jews like me who like to regift).  I asked for the food to go so I couold give it to my friend Marlen in Avignon.  But, alas, because the cheese was uncooked and unpasteurized, I was turned down.  So, for the exact reason this cheese tasted so good,  is the same reason I was denied. It was probably all for the best... I would have been constipated for 4 days instead.

So Thank you Marine Gourgechon for taking us to this amazing place... and thank you Deke McClelland for indulging with me.  It was the beginning of a fantastic culinary adventure.