There was a medieval-length table packed with our compadres... those who are fond of the skinny forks and small bowls of food. There were many choices for sampling - the international cheese fondue was incredible, dipping breads, apples, and vegetables. A few of us had the mandarin meats, marinated in an asian way, perfect for stick-ing in oil and eating (but not right away!) and dipping sauces. The cardinal sin of fondue feasting is that you do NOT eat the food with the long cooking forks, you put it on the plate and eat like a normal person. As much as we want to really be like sophisticated pirates, we aren't. I ate mine that way anyhow, I couldn't help it.Having been a little rusty on my fondue cooking instructions, I was reminded about timing on the simmering duration of the meats, fish, chicken, and pork. My
internal clock is great, but you have to account for the temperature of the oil itself, 160 degrees and you start killing the bacteria, and whether shrimp is supposed to be grey or do you leave it in a while. Dante the proprietor himself came over and gave us the "real story" behind salmonella, how you get it and some great "transmission tales" of bacteria. Needless to say, within 30 seconds I was washing my hands.Who needs tapas when you have fondue? A great meal to share, fun banter when your sticks get mixed up (hint - place 2 different items on to identify your stick, like a mushroom and chicken), and you leave the restaurant smelling like something oily - like a diner but without the smoky bacon reek.
The Sovereign of the Royal Fondue Society and his First Lady of the Fork had given my husband and I a fondue set for our wedding. It's like friendship, fun, and 'the way it oughta be' all boxed up with a silver bow - a real treasure for years to come.
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Hmmmm.....while the great "She-said" food aficionado was dining on Fondue, where was her company's "Man-of-the-Year?" In a little slice of heaven called "Johnny Rockets" in the Atlanta Underground. As Carol can attest with comments like "I can't believe YOUR wife would go in a place like that," Atlanta Underground is a slightly cleaned up version of Bourbon Street...minus the beads and nudity.
Although I was not invited to the luxurious and fun fondue festival, I did manage to make friends in the new Rocket Arena. I was waited on by a delightful girl with the fitting name of "Love." Obviously seeing the forelorn and to alleviate the sadness of being deserted by my friends, the cashier did call me sweety and love a few times.
Sure, burger and onion rings can't take the place of the excitement of a bowl of boiling liquid.....the feeling I might be knifed at any minute in the Underground.....that added an excitement to the meal that could not have been missed.
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