St Moritz

What, as they say, is not to like about fondue? Bubbling gruyere and emmenthal with wine, garlic and kirsch, with piles of bread and nifty forks... I feel myself coming on all Homer Simpson, because I think you'd be somewhat nuts if fondue didn't rock your world... doh!
We had tried and failed to get into St Moritz on Wardour Street a number of times, but booking a table resolved that this evening, and it delivered in all the ways that you'd want it to: alpine wooden walls, Swiss wine, vaguely yodelly-music in the background, a Tyrolean gent checking that all was well, and a giant 1970s cooking pot atop a burner, filled with lightly bubbling cheese of just the right consistency for dipping the bread into. The quality of all the ingredients was good, the service was OK and there was enough cheese to induce just the right kind of leaden-belly-feeling by the end of the evening that we were looking for. It's not especially cheap, but it is one of those types of food that you've just got to have from time to time, and there was a jolly crowd in the house enjoying a really classic dish in just the kind of unironic fashion which it should be appreciated. Try looking at the photos in this posting when you're feeling hungry and tell me that it doesn't look a very appealing way to spend an evening...