Because it's been 48 hours since I last blogged about cheese, I had to go out for a hearty Swiss dinner of fondue tonight. I love fondue. There's just nothing like a big vat of melted cheese, with cute skinny forks and tiny pieces of bread to get one's heart racing. This is the food of my people, after all.
Seriously. This is basically me on a typical day:
Tonight, my oldest friend Anna (I mean, she's not old, we just go way back) and I went to our all-time favorite fondue restaurant: Les Armures. I'm always so excited to eat there. Tonight, we even made friends with a charming old man at the table next to ours: the Roquefort salad is delicious, he assured us. We'll put it on our list to order next time, when we're not so desperate for cheese.
Her boyfriend Chris, a Brit (a fact which will momentarily prove significant) joined us later on, and we moved to another restaurant, which had a fuzzy set of toadstools next to our table. I now want my own fuzzy set of toadstools. Where does one get fuzzy toadstools? Etsy? Maybe I just like saying "fuzzy toadstools." Try saying it without smiling; I'm not sure it's possible.
We talked about this and that, until the conversation inevitably turned to Donald Trump, as these things tend to do when drinking and fuzzy toadstools and other ridiculous things are involved. "I think he's going to win!" Chris declared, to which Anna and I each raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, I'm not so sure," I began with the diplomacy of a practiced Swiss. "I'm positive he's going to win!" Chris continued, with all the bluster of someone who does not have his own blog, and therefore does not get to tell his own version of this story.
This continued back and forth for some time, until I played my - as it were - Trump card: "I have a U.S. passport. Guess which one of us can't vote!" Burrrrrrrn.
It was lovely to see them, and regrettably short. Afterwards, I walked back through the quiet and misty streets of Geneva, enjoying the familiar and the new sights and sounds of my hometown. The quaint and artsy neighborhood of Carouge has a beautifully-lit street of stars. I felt happy.