I love fondue. It's food covered in melted magic.
Melted cheese; Melted chocolate; Melted magic.
Melted cheese; Melted chocolate; Melted magic.
A few months ago,
my husband and I took
our two sons to
The Melting Pot in downtown Portland for
an afternoon treat.
I wouldn't call the Melting Pot a family restaurant. People dress up to go there on special occasions. It has mood lighting. There's a hot plate at each table.
But... if you visit during first hour they are open
(when the crowd is thin), one order of chocolate dessert fondue (split between the whole family) is ... well...magical.
my husband and I took
our two sons to
The Melting Pot in downtown Portland for
an afternoon treat.
I wouldn't call the Melting Pot a family restaurant. People dress up to go there on special occasions. It has mood lighting. There's a hot plate at each table.
But... if you visit during first hour they are open
(when the crowd is thin), one order of chocolate dessert fondue (split between the whole family) is ... well...magical.
The plate of marshmallows, strawberries, brownies, cheesecake, and Rice Krispies would have been glorious enough for my five year-old. When you add a bowl of melted chocolate, the boy hits euphoria.
I ordered a bananas foster-chocolate mix that was flambéed. As flames rose from the bowl both my sons were speechless. Their eyes went
from the awesome flames to the chocolate to me:
firmly securing my place as "coolest" Mom for weeks.
On the drive home, my five year old must have said the word "flambé" to himself at least forty times. I may be spoiling him, but I'm building his vocabulary at the same time. Right?
from the awesome flames to the chocolate to me:
firmly securing my place as "coolest" Mom for weeks.
On the drive home, my five year old must have said the word "flambé" to himself at least forty times. I may be spoiling him, but I'm building his vocabulary at the same time. Right?