I like everything about fondue.

In the early 90′s Greg and I would go to Geja’s Cafe, the fondue institution in Chicago’s Lincoln Park, a subterranean place with stucco, flamenco tunes and delightfully curtained booths. Called “Chicago’s Most Romantic Restaurant,” it features a massive fondue menu with cheese, beef, lobster, scallops, flaming chocolate. You drink wine for two hours while you wait. You drink wine with four fondue courses, watch wine blaze your dessert, clink champagne. Then, if you are me, you pass out on the table in cheese-wine coma and, for an encore, fall out of a taxi and hurl.

Still, I like everything about fondue.

I like going to buy the cheese, and griping about the cost. Oh well, I always say, handing the cashier our mortgage, it’s only once a year. I love that it’s a one-pot meal, and prying open Sterno, and piling tart apples in bowls and drinking wine while I stir in the wine. I like forks flying, diving, and tangling under cheese. Enough tangled dipping and someone’s bound to drop an apple, or lose their bread. When that happens, tradition dictates that you kiss the person to your right…

…especially if that person is a Josie-loving Lab.  Now break out that set – you know, up in the high cabinet, in the back. Pour, stir, bubble and smooch: enjoy your own fondue night.

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Traditional Swiss Fondue

adapted from The Book of Fondues

1 garlic clove, peeled and halved
1 cup dry white wine
1 teaspoon lemon juice
2 cups (8 oz.) shredded Gruyère cheese
2 cups (8 oz.) shredded Emmentaler cheese
2 teaspoons cornstarch
2 tablespoons Kirschwasser (cherry brandy)
dash white pepper
pinch grated nutmeg

crusty French bread, cut in cubes
1 – 2 tart, firm apples (I prefer Granny Smith) cut in chunks

Rub inside of fondue pot with cut garlic clove.

Pour in wine and lemon juice; cook over medium heat until bubbling. Turn heat to low and gradually stir in cheese with wooden spoon or, for easier cleanup, a heatproof silicone spatula. Cheese will melt, but cheese and wine will appear separated.

In a small bowl blend cornstarch with Kirschwasser. Add to melted cheese mixture and continue to cook, stirring for 2 – 3 minutes, until mixture comes smoothly together. Watch carefully and do not allow fondue to boil. Season with white pepper and nutmeg, and serve immediately.

Serves 4 as a first course; double recipe to serve as main course.

A word about heat: whatever your fondue heat source, it’s a balancing act. You want it high enough to keep fondue melted, and low enough not to burn. Despite best efforts, you’ll nearly always find a small patch of burnt cheese on the bottom. French-speakers and true fondue fans love this treasure and call it “la religeuse,” the nun. I call it holy good snacking.

Today our refrigerator pal is onion-soup onions. Scanning your shelves, you think, what? This is not a leftover I have. Dear friends it’s October, and time to simmer soup. If you haven’t yet done so you should, and you can start with my favorite French Onion-Cider Soup, here. If like me you’re heavy-handed with the onions, you can enjoy a few rounds of soup and still have plenty left over – a translucent golden heap, steeped in loving wine-kissed soup. I look forward to this heap, because soup-smooched onions are a bonus, an ingredient so prized there should be onion soup-onion-hunting pigs. Now – if you can resist caramelized snacking by the spoonful, here are five easy ways to use them:

1. Croque Monsieur Football Edition The Parisians would literally croak seeing their beloved snack all faux’ed up and served to screaming Chiefs fans. But can they argue with greatness? To make these open-faced sandwiches, start with slices of thick, eggy bread like challah or brioche. Swipe on a dab of grainy mustard, then add Black Forest ham and onion soup-onions. Top with sliced Gruyere (or Fontina, or Jarlsberg) cheese, and sprinkle top with a dash of cayenne pepper. Lay sandwiches on sheet pan and place under hot broiler, just until cheese bubbled and browns. Serve (to viewers) immediately.

2. French Onion Omelet I made one of these for Josie earlier today, a rolled yellow omelet stuffed with spinach leaves, soup onions, melting Gruyere and nutmeg, and when asked how it was she could not answer, just a sound. To use onion soup-onions in omelets, first make sure they’re drained. Although your soup is ostensibly gone, the onions still hold liquid – so before using, let onions rest briefly on a paper towel to dry. On to the omelets: for wonderful fillings, try combining onions with fresh spinach, Swiss cheese and a dash of nutmeg, or mixed wild mushrooms with onions and goat cheese.

3. Maple-Onion Roast Butternut Squash Preheat oven to 400 F. Halve, peel, and remove seeds from a large (approx 3 lbs) butternut squash. Cut into 3/4″ chunks, then toss squash pieces in bowl with 1 cup onion soup-onions, 1/4 cup maple syrup, and 2 tablespoons olive oil. Season to taste with sea salt, ground pepper and dried thyme. Spread squash mixture on sheet pan and bake approximately 40 minutes, or until squash pieces are lightly browned on sides, and softened. Stir and turn squash pieces every 12-15 minutes to better caramelize and avoid burning.

4. Onion-Dill Cream Cheese Not your average spread. In food processor fitted with metal blade, place 8 oz softened cream cheese, one large scoop onion soup-onions, and a few large sprigs of fresh dill.  Process to almost smooth, leaving a few onion pieces, occasionally stopping processor to scrape down sides. Turn mixture into bowl and stir in sea salt and ground pepper to taste. Try serving with bagels and marinated cucumbers, or pumpernickel and smoked salmon.

5. Pecan, Brie and French Onion Quesadillas Here I borrow (and mess around with ) a great idea from Gwen Ashley Walters, a marvelous blogging chef who first shared these quesadillas in her July 2009 Tell Simmer. Take 2 (8-inch) flour tortillas and spread each with a heaping tablespoon of chopped onion soup-onions.  Divide 3 tablespoons chopped, toasted pecans and sprinkle each half over onions. Add 3 ounces (about 1/2 cup) chopped Brie cheese over one half of each tortilla.  Sprinkle pinch of sea salt and dash each of nutmeg and cayenne pepper over cheese on each tortilla. Fold tortillas in half, pressing gently. Cook quesadillas on a preheated griddle (or in a skillet) until tortilla browns and cheese starts to melt, about 2 to 3 minutes, flip and brown the other side. Cut each tortilla into four wedges before serving.

So there we have it – onion soup, the gift that keeps giving. Any leftover love ideas to share?

And speaking of blurry, I only wish I had a coded excuse for what happened the other day – but I don’t. It was late afternoon and I was alone in the kitchen, putting away produce. Cucumbers here, tomatoes there, bananas in the bowl, onions and shallots over there. Done. Wearing a spit-spot Mary Poppins smile, I turned around and saw this:

And then I screamed like a banshee, and ran in circles and waved my arms and swore and just about died.

It took me a full 30 seconds (plus a few cautious paring knife pokes) to realize I was screaming at a shallot. With a tail. What can I say? I was up late the night before, my glasses were in my purse, and, well – I do have a rather well-documented thing about mice. Luckily this was a fake, a mirage created by my poor vision and, quite possibly, one sick-in-the-head shallot farmer.

Once I recovered, the thing had to go.  I immediately chopped that squeaky shallot into a variation on Caprese Salad, substituting a savory, chunky berry dressing for traditional tomatoes. These are strong flavors, they are – wine vinegar, cracked pepper, charred shallots and juiced berries make for seriously tart bites between creamy mozzarella. Of course, you can add or reduce vinegar/pepper to scale the flavor up or down, but whatever you do, be vigilant: in shallot season, you just might need a vinaigrette trap.

Raspberry Basil Caprese

1 shallot
1 teaspoon olive oil
6 oz fresh raspberries
1 tablespoon honey
3 oz red wine vinegar
1 1/2 teaspoons roughly cracked or ground black pepper
dash sea salt

1 lb fresh mozzarella cheese
5 large basil leaves (4 for assembly, 1 to chop for garnish)

Make Raspberry-Shallot Dressing

Peel the shallot and slice thin, forming rings. Heat olive oil in small frying pan to hot, but not sizzling; add shallot rings and saute 1 – 2 minutes, until barely softened and edges are lightly charred. Remove from heat and set aside.

Place 4 oz of raspberries in medium mixing bowl, and save remaining 2 oz for garnish. Use a spatula to lightly press berries and release juices, leaving several whole and half berries in mix. Add honey, red wine vinegar, cracked pepper and cooked shallots. Gently stir with spatula to blend. Test flavor, and adjust to your taste with sea salt, or more pepper. Dressing can be made up to 24 hours before serving; flavors will intensify as it rests.

Assemble Raspberry Basil Caprese

Slice thick pieces of fresh mozzarella, 2 per person (8 slices to serve 4).

Lay one slice of mozzarella on plate. Top cheese with 1 teaspoon Raspberry-Shallot Dressing, then one large basil leaf. Lay second slice of mozzarella over the basil, and finish with another heaping teaspoon of dressing. Garnish plates with a few fresh raspberries, chopped basil, and a small extra splash of dressing, if desired.

Serves 4 as a first course.

The question is, when do I not think about eating? I really should say tasting because I’m always thinking about the flavor of food, more than the act of actual eating. I want to taste everything.

Coffee craving?

Somewhere along the way, I became a coffee snob. I adore fresh roasted beans and bought my husband a Capresso Jura Impressa J5 for his birthday last year, but it secretly was for me.

Favorite hometown food?

I grew up in West Texas, not necessarily a bastion of local cuisine, or any cuisine for that matter. We did get amazing cantaloupes from Pecos Valley in the summer. We also had some killer BBQ joints. BBQ in Texas means smoky, dry-rubbed brisket slathered in an equally smoky barbecue sauce.

Ever been served breakfast in bed?

Does serving myself count? Otherwise, no. My husband is not a breakfast cook, or any other kind of cook for that matter, but he does wash a mean dish.

Food that makes you gag?

Sea urchin. I think some things are best left in the sea.

Worst kitchen disaster:

How much time do you have? I’ve tested close to 1,000 recipes across my three cookbooks, and there were plenty of kitchen misshaps along the way. The ones I remember the most involve some sort of pain, like the time I pureed a hot soup and the top blew off splattering me with boiling liquid. I learned quickly not to fill a blender more than half full with hot liquid and to apply heavy pressure to the lid, with gentle bursts of speed.

Leftovers in your fridge?

I have a dozen opened jars of salsas, jams, pickles and chutneys. I write a “local” product column for our city’s magazine, and I’m always testing new products. At any given time, I also have several homemade vinaigrettes. Right now I have a golden raisin vinaigrette and a jalapeno-lime vinaigrette.

Your idea of a romantic meal:

Any meal eaten by candlelight, with copious amounts of Champagne and of course, my husband.

Secret snack of shame?

Peanut butter — on a spoon, straight from the jar.

Best restaurant if you’re not paying:

I’ve yet to eat at The French Laundry, but it is on my bucket list. The best restaurant I have tried is Binkley’s Restaurant in Cave Creek, AZ. Chef Kevin Binkley trained under Thomas Keller at The French Laundry, and his chef tasting menus always amaze and astonish me — and set us back a few hundred dollars.

If you were a cocktail, what would you be?

I’m much more of a beer and wine gal. So I’m either a hoppy, hand-crafted brew, or a chilled glass of bone-dry rose.

Favorite pizza place?

We’re so fortunate to have Chris Bianco’s (James Beard winner) Pizzeria Bianco in town. He is in his tiny restaurant every night, personally making each thin-crusted pizza with farm fresh, often organic ingredients. My favorite is the wiseguy: fennel sausage, wood roasted red onions and smoked, housemade mozzarella.

Extra credit } a great recipe with less than five ingredients:

Pecan & Brie Quesadillas

Serves 2 – 4

2 tablespoons mango chutney
3 ounces of Brie, chopped (about 1/2 cup)
2 (8-inch) flour tortillas
3 tablespoons chopped toasted pecans

Spread a tablespoon of mango chutney over each tortilla. Sprinkle cheese over one half of each tortilla. Sprinkle nuts over the cheese. Fold tortillas in half, pressing gently. Cook quesadillas on a preheated griddle (or in a skillet) until tortilla browns and cheese starts to melt, about 2 to 3 minutes, flip and brown the other side. Cut each tortilla into four wedges before serving.

If you were to be so kind as to let me include a 5th ingredient, I’d probably sprinkle a little fresh chopped parsley or even cilantro over the cheese, too. And of course, a 6th ingredient would be butter to grease the griddle first, but it does work on a dry griddle.

We watched Maraca Kabob do an especially tricky interview with Bill O’Reilly – you know, he of the No-Sin – I mean Spin – Zone and all that. Candidate Maraca held his ground, but before the interview, Mr. O’Reilly described the reporters criticizing Sarah “Moose Meat” Palin – and indeed, he surely meant all who question the guns n’ lipstick governor – as “sniveling.”

He also called them “left-wing…”

and “…wine-drinking,”

and my personal favorite, “brie-eating.”

Well. If demanding the truth equals more brie for me, then guilty – and clearly sniveling, leftist and water-cracker-eating – as charged. Pass the slicer, pour the red, and don’t forget to vote!

So much that I gave it a golden cheese halo. It is a storybook wedge – amber and firm, curls beautifully and melts like a dream. Similar to Gouda but stronger-flavored, it’s good for snacking – it’s good for anything, and here’s how the delightful Beemster people describe it:

Beemster Classic is the perfect age for any kind of cheese connoisseur to enjoy. One can enjoy Classic on a lunch sandwich in grade school or with fine wines at a dinner party.”

One can also enjoy it by eating a whole wheel. Oh, the Dutch. The only flaw is the name…it’s like I’m hangin’ with the Beemster.

And…I am. I go through little cheese infatuations. In the honeymoon stage there are peeks in the fridge, afternoon love bites and long, curling slices. Then it’s marriage, and I’ll use it every day – in eggs, grilled cheese, in chicken on Tuesday. Finally, indigestion and the oversaturated breakup: Beemster, I’m just not that into you.

But right now, the Beemster is melting my heart. We’re going steady…

…and every day is a Dutch treat.