I thought she might bring chicken and potatoes. Or a casserole.
Raclettes. She brought her raclette contraption from Europe, and dinner suddenly became an event.
As someone who has read just about every baking catalog on the face of the planet, I was shocked. I had never even remotely heard of this! Sir Bradley furrowed his eyebrows at having to pull the dryer out to plug the thing in, and even suggested that we use another pan. Silly - he didn't know we were about to have raclettes. And so the deed was done, and the long extension cord wound it's way through the laundry room, across the kitchen, and into the dining room.
These are actually grills, with a griddle on top and an element underneath for broiling. Everyone has their own raclette pan to assemble little bites of meat and vegies, then top it off with raclette cheese.
Seriously? Racelette cheese? How could I have never seen it?
The browned and slightly crispy cheese made everything so delicious! But I'm convinced that the intrigue and the social nature of the dinner made it even better. The Swiss have figured it out. Then again, I think my very American friend has it down as well. =)