Bacon Cheese Fondue

The week between Christmas and New Year's. My favorite week of every year. The city half-empty. The kitchen slow. The year visibly ending.

I have been writing a letter to Jisoo that is an accounting of the year. All of it. Not as a final document — we have many years now — but as the first year-end letter I will send her, marking where we have been. Where I started: 2021 began with me in my condo, alone on New Year's Eve with James asleep on the couch, watching the ball drop on my laptop while eating leftover japchae. Where I ended: 2021 will end with me engaged to James, having met my birth mother on video, having sent her Christmas gifts, having her on FaceTime with Karen, planning a wedding and a trip to Busan and maybe-eventually a business. I wrote all of this down. I sent it Sunday night. Jisoo wrote back on Monday morning (her Tuesday): "My year with you was the year everything softened. Before I had you back I had a sharp edge in my chest. You cannot imagine how it softened. Thank you for finding me. You were the one who had to do the work of finding. I was the one who got to be found. I know how lucky I am."

I printed that letter. I added it to the folder. The folder is now so thick I had to move its contents into a proper archival box. I went to the container store on Tuesday and bought a photo box and lid in a neutral gray. I labeled it in my small engineer's handwriting: "Jisoo, 2021." Next year will be its own box. I will do this for the rest of my life.

James and I spent this week quietly. We cooked at home every night. Monday: galbitang. Tuesday: Taiwanese pork chops over rice. Wednesday: dumplings (store-bought, pan-fried). Thursday: kimchi fried rice. Friday: Chinese hot pot in our new hot pot we bought ourselves for Christmas. Saturday: leftovers. Sunday: I am writing this post instead of cooking. We will order pho from the place down the block.

Kevin called Wednesday to say Lisa had proposed to him. He said it fast, embarrassed, happy. "She proposed to me. She said she was tired of waiting for me to figure it out. I said yes. We're not going to do a wedding, we're just getting legal in January, but I wanted you to know." I said, "Kevin. Oh my God. I'm so happy for you." He said, "Please don't make it weird. We're not doing a party." I said, "I will make it a little weird. I'm your sister. That's my job." He said, "A little weird, but not a lot." I sent a card Thursday. Karen cried when I told her. David said, "About time."

Jisoo wrote me a New Year's blessing this week. In Korean, translated: "May the new year find you whole. May your table be full. May your mother Karen have good days. May your James be kind. May you return to me when the flowers are in bloom." I will return to her in the spring. I am already counting the weeks.

Dr. Yoon is on vacation until January 10th. Her out-of-office email said, "I will be with you in spirit." She is not joking. She means it. I have been thinking about how much of therapy is spiritual. Dr. Yoon has built me a self I walk around in every day. She is not a mother. She is adjacent to mother. I wrote her a thank-you card on Sunday. I mailed it on Monday. I will send her one every year.

The recipe this week is budae jjigae. The army stew. Everything in a pot. Cheap, improbable, delicious. A dish invented by survivors. Eaten by a woman who has, this year, learned more about survival than she thought she would need to. Here is to the next year. Here is to the stew.

The recipe I had in mind was budae jjigae — army stew, the dish invented from scarcity and made into something improbable and beloved — but what I kept coming back to, practically, was the idea of the communal pot: something you pull toward the center of the table, something you share, something warm enough to hold the whole week inside it. This Bacon Cheese Fondue is that dish for me right now. It has the same logic as army stew: you throw in what you have, you melt it together, you dip into it with the people you love. James and I made it on a quiet Friday night with bread and whatever vegetables were left in the crisper drawer, and it was exactly right — rich and a little ridiculous and completely satisfying, the way a good year should feel when you finally let yourself count what you have.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

6 strips thick-cut bacon, chopped
1 clove garlic, halved
1 cup dry white wine (such as Sauvignon Blanc)
8 oz Gruyère cheese, shredded
8 oz sharp white cheddar, shredded
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
For dipping: crusty bread cubes, blanched broccoli florets, sliced apples, baby potatoes (boiled), cornichons

Instructions

Cook the bacon. In a medium saucepan or fondue pot over medium heat, cook the chopped bacon until crisp, about 6–8 minutes. Transfer to a paper towel–lined plate, leaving about 1 teaspoon of drippings in the pot.
Prepare the pot. Reduce heat to medium-low. Rub the cut sides of the garlic halves all over the interior of the pot, then discard the garlic (or mince and add back in if you prefer a stronger flavor).
Heat the wine. Pour the white wine into the pot and heat over medium-low until it just begins to steam and small bubbles appear at the edges, about 3–4 minutes. Do not boil.
Add the cheese. Toss the shredded Gruyère and cheddar with the cornstarch in a bowl until evenly coated. Add the cheese to the wine a handful at a time, stirring in a slow figure-eight motion after each addition, waiting until each addition is fully melted before adding the next.
Season. Stir in the Dijon mustard, nutmeg, and black pepper. Taste and adjust seasoning. Fold in the reserved crispy bacon.
Keep warm and serve. Transfer to a fondue pot with a low flame or bring the saucepan directly to the table on a trivet. Serve immediately with your choice of dippers arranged around the pot.

Nutrition (per serving)

Bacon Cheese Fondue — Everything in a Pot, Everything That Matters