pics from an end-of-term meal

Here are some pics of our Level 3 pig-out last Thursday. The photos were sent to me by one of my students, Eunj3ong. I received eight pics but decided not to blog one of them in order to preserve one student's dignity. I have no problem blogging bad pics of myself (as you'll see below); this is because I have almost no shame.

This first pic shows Eunj3ong and S3onmi standing over by the fondue while I do my best Isaac "Yes, I Am a Foreign Monkey" Durst impression. I look I'm squeezing out a fart. How apropos, given that the ladies didn't like the smell of the cheese... at least, not until the Gruyère and Emmenthaler started to meld with the wine and become a true fondue.

This next pic features a drunk William Shatner:







The fondue itself! Nicely done, ladies! My students were heavily involved in fondue prep. They garlicked up the caquelon, cut the cheese (heh), tossed the cheese pieces in cornstarch, measured out the wine and the lemon juice, got the caquelon heated up, stirred the cheese into the liquid, and kept right on stirring. About the only thing I did was to add black pepper and nutmeg. How do you like our wacky fondue forks? As you might imagine, they're not what you'd typically see in Switzerland. We have to make do with what's available (and in our price range), ja?







Here's S3ungmin, about to take the big bite:







Here are Eunj3ong and yours truly. I told Eunj3ong she needed to send this pic to her boyfriend. He's doing his military service right now, and this is just the sort of thing a homesick boy in the military needs to see. Heh.







Below, me and S3ungmin. I tend to use myself as an object of self-deprecating humor in my classes, tubby guy that I am. Every time I crack a fat joke, S3ungmin says, "No! You're in great shape!" How can you not love a woman like that?







Below-- our gang: S3onmi in front, with Y3ongran and S3ungmin behind her. We're missing Eunj3ong, who's snapping the shot.






So there you have it. No spaghetti pics, and no pics from breakfast the following day, but I hope this gives you some idea of what the end of a typical Smoo term is like. If I had a class of twenty to forty people, I doubt I'd cook for everyone; we'd have a potluck meal instead. But with a small class like this one (usually six-- four came on the last day; one had broken her leg while the other was simply AWOL), parties are not only possible, they're probable.


_