swiss night

last night i was lucky enough to be invited to a swiss meal. the captain and mrs captain used to live in switzerland and picked up all sorts of useful kit there. they have a little gadget that you screw into the middle of lemons to pour juice out, and another little gadget like a bit of garden hose that takes the skin off garlic cloves. but the most impressive bit of kit is undoubtedly the racklette machine.

this is a sort of hotplate that you plug in. it heats up and you put loads of stuff on the top to cook. but the cleverest bit is that you put little shovels underneath the heater with slices of cheese on them. the cheese melts and bubbles and when it starts to sing you pull it out and pour it over the food. you have to get special cheese for this. funnily enough it is called racklette cheese. i am not sure if the cheese was named first or the machine.

the peeps were invited round to partake in this feast. mrs captain is on a diet which only allows her to eat special soup and drink pink milkshake so it is very noble of her to keep feeding other people. as the peeps got ready it was not clear whether i was invited or not. so to be on the safe side i rushed around wailing about how lonely i would be if they left me at home. luckily they took pity on me.

as soon as the machine was set up i could see opportunities for gleaning some grub. with a little nifty footwork i could wrap myself in the cable and thus tug the machine down to a more acceptable level. this ploy failed dismally. in the picture you can see me trying to persuade himself that i should be allowed to smell the racklette cheese. in reality you could smell this cheese from up the road but i pretended i wanted to savour its finer qualities. unfortunately himself is wise to my old lurcher tricks.

but i managed to taste some of the goodies. the wild girl had loaded her plate up with bockwurst, potatoes, prawns, gherkins and of course cheese. i could see she was grinding to a halt so i emerged from under the table with my cheeriest smile and was promised the leftovers after the peeps had finished. and my was it worth the wait!

i am thinking of applying for a job in switzerland as a st bernard. these are dogs that dig people out of snowdrifts. they wear little barrels of brandy round their necks. the only snag might be that i am a little lean to be taken for a st bernard. they are hefty chaps. maybe i can persuade herself to doctor a photo of me to make me look chunkier. or maybe if i just keep on eating the racklette....