My definition of hell would be a world without cheese. Or worse yet: a world full of cheese that I was not allowed to eat. Cheese is a gift from God, if ever there was one.
So imagine my sheer joy, my unbridled exuberance, my near-orgasmic ecstasy when I came across a cheesy tradition that I had never heard of before. And it is, without a doubt, the best cheese experience of my entire life. To wit: raclette.
Raclette comes from Switzerland and the Savoy region of France, and it is a wheel of cheese and also the meal derived therefrom. You heat the cheese and then scrape it off the wheel and onto the meal in question. But I’d be sorely tempted to just scrape it directly into my mouth if given the opportunity.
I discovered this delicacy at a local food truck, called Fire and Scrape. They prepare potatoes, or grilled vegetables, or delicious sandwiches, and then they scrape that scrumptious cheese over the top of them and serve. I can’t think of anything more satisfying than this comfort food. It was worth the long line to experience it.
And now I’m seeing that one can purchase a raclette grill on line. Of course, the cheese itself is available that way, too. I’m doomed.
And the crazy thing is, this food tradition has been around since 1291. How have I managed to live 53 years without experiencing this culinary nirvana?
To think, as a loved one pointed out, that when I was a kid I thought all cheese was medium cheddar. Poor deprived child. I weep for her.
If you ever have the chance to experience the pure heaven that is raclette, don’t hesitate. I’m telling you, your life will never be the same.
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