Cheese high

Fondue party last night. Tim and I spent an insane amount of money on good cheese. And it was worth it. I wonder if the recipe was for appetizers, because it claimed to feed 6, but Tim, his classmate Lauren, and I polished off the whole pot.

The cheese high is a spectacular, strange phenomenon. As the cheese disappeared, we started laughing more, smiling wider, scrounging for the last bits of cheese at the bottom of the fondue pot because suddenly it tasted even more delicious. It wasn't simply joy at good food and good conversation--we had a physical (physiological?) reaction to it. It felt exactly like being stoned--minus the desperate need for sleep that usually kicks in half hour after I get high. Tim and I have experienced it once before, at a previous fondue party. (Everyone around the table sat around going, "Whoooa. Dude. What is happening??")

This high contributed to "Hell yeah! Let's make chocolate fondue!" and believing white chocolate liqueur and amaretto would be for thinning and flavoring the baker's unsweetened and semi-sweet chocolate (the only chocolate left in the house) and heavy cream. The result was a fudge-like sludge that slowly separated, yet everyone claimed was delicious. By that time, three other people had arrived, and the bliss of chocolate and friends overroad the dubious consistency of the fondue.

Now the sludge is mixed with strawberries and walnuts and packed into wax paper because Tim, who was subsequently experiencing the chocolate high (I didn't), thought it would make good fudge. We'll see.