I have NO idea why I know what raclette is. No clue. But the weekend I was in Bham I went to Whole Foods (yeah! cheer!) and there it was...a display of raclette. So my best bud Mary and I each bought a chunk. And came home.
This household runs on perpetual chaos so for whatever reason, we didn't eat it last week. I checked out the potential and while the computer stressed boiled potatos and pickles, I kept looking at that cheese. Got home Friday night and The Big Boy had eaten half of it, cold and salty and lovely to the tongue. Damn.
Tonight we made the artisan bread and IF YOU HAVEN'T BEEN LISTENING, this needs to be one of the top five things you do every week. Then I took a small oval black cast iron skillet that I got in Texas to cook fajitas, took the bread out of the oven and put the raclette in and gave the bread five minutes to crust up and the cheese five minutes to melt down and...oh. Y'all. This is one of the five best things I ever had in life, including sex. This just ROCKED.
The Big Boy is on the road this week and you better believe he has been given instructions to be on the lookout for Whole Foods/gourmet shops/cheese places. Of any kind, but if you can find me a couple of blocks of raclette?
You gonna get real, real lucky.
I'm just saying.