Mid-winter Blues? Must Be Time for a Raclette Party

By Margaret Gilmour

Right about now—the end of January—many of us enjoy a pause from holiday events and social gatherings that peaked a month ago.

At the same time, though, the colder, shorter days tend to hatch crabby, weary moods, better known as the mid-winter blues.

So, do we hibernate, or do we get out even when it’s so cold?

A little of both works for me.

While you allow yourself time for rest and solace, remember that centuries ago, winter became the time for a long awaited recess. Summer meant tending to crops from daybreak until dusk, so when harvest wrapped up in the fall, worn out neighbors and families were more than ready to replace hard work with a little party time.

In fact, “tarrying” was the custom for rural colonial families: They’d pack up in the afternoon, head out and arrive at another’s home just in time for dinner and a sleep over. And with no phones around, you’d never know when to expect a visitor, but your house was always open in the hope that guests would appear and a gathering of food and drink would ensue. After all, long days working on the farm provided many hours of solitude, so winter meant catching up on conversation and socializing. Sharing experiences (in person) is a good remedy for battling the blues.

I even read somewhere that colonists would keep a kettle of soup steaming 24/7, adding more ingredients to the pot as the soup was served, rather than emptying it to start anew. That way, there would be an endless supply of warm food for drop-ins.

Okay, that idea doesn’t appeal.

But throughout history, there were always plenty of cultural cold weather therapies including mid-winter festivals with huge outdoor fires, and dancing and singing that expended any pent up energy—probably relieved a lot of stress too. And getting physical will certainly shake off the doldrums.

Or, of course, if you’re not up for dancing in the snow, simply staying indoors for an intimate mid-winter celebration with good friends gathered around the hearth to preserve heat, and bask in stillness, is an option. Add smells of cooking to the warm room and you’re sure to perk up a bit.

That’s what we did Saturday night. We gathered at a friend’s for my first raclette party. We didn’t sit around the fireplace though, we stayed put at the table, where the raclette—a type of Swiss cookery, much like a mini-grill—was our hearth.

Apparently raclette, French for “to scrape,” is a long-time winter tradition in Switzerland, maybe even more popular than fondue. Raclette is also a type of cheese—a favorite of mine—semi-soft and pungent. Delicious the older and riper it gets (I get mine, made with raw milk, at Trader Joe’s).

Anyway, we each had our own “triangle,” or “coupelle”, a mini-paddle we slipped under the cooker to melt our cheese. I added diced peppers to my coupelle before melting a few Edam and Fontina slices. Then I poured the hot mixture over warmed potatoes, bread or roasted vegetables my friend prepared earlier that day.

The meat eaters at the table did the same, adding chunks of marinated pork, chicken or beef they cooked above on the grill.

Other sides included a two salads and homemade bread. And, just like a fondue party, all of us cooked our own meals as we huddled around one another, never moving far from food or chatter.

The only blues in this room came from John Lee Hooker’s soulful strumming in the background.