Last Friday, for his birthday, Sir Monkeypants requested a special dinner — cheese fondue.

Making cheese fondue reminds me of my best friend from high school, Sapphire Jones (name changed as she is quite obsessive about maintaining her internet privacy).

Sapph was the daughter of a good friend of my mom’s. We’d met each other a few times as children, and then when we were around 8 years old, she moved with her family to Holland, her parents’ original home country. Our mothers thought it would be nice if we could be pen pals. That lasted maybe, two letters apiece before we had more pressing things to attend to, like when Darth Vader said he was Luke’s father at the end of Empire Strikes Back, did he really mean it, or was he lying?

Her family moved back to Canada when we were in high school but we went to different schools and didn’t see each other at all, although our moms played bridge together once a month. One day her mom said to my mom that Sapph was applying for a summer program for “gifted” kids (read: extremely geeky), to study at a university for a few weeks, then go work in a high tech job for a few weeks. My mom was all like, “Well, if you think your daughter is gifted, you haven’t met my daughter! If yours can get in, mine can too!” And next thing I knew, I was filling out an application.

We both got into the program — it was kind of like summer camp for math nerds, in that we stayed for four weeks together in the dorms at the University of Waterloo. When we arrived there with my stuff, my mom took me right away to look for Sapphire, to renew our acquaintance. I was all like, “Hey, how are you doing? What have you been up to for the past 8 years?” And she was all like, “Um, do I know you?” But it all worked out and we grew quite quickly to become best friends.

A year or so later, her family moved up to Barrie, which was about a two hour drive from my house in Cambridge, so we didn’t get to see each other as much, but we talked on the phone all the time…constantly, my mom might say…and we used our super awesome IBM XTs, with 512K RAM, to chat to each other over the internet (I guess we really were that geeky!). We’d get together on long weekends and sometimes in the summer we’d join each other on family vacations.

Every year, we’d spend New Year’s Eve together. She sometimes had a boyfriend and I had , but circumstances always seemed to arise in which we could not be with our men, and so we just hung out together. Then it became an unshakable tradition, and boys took second place to New Year’s at Sapphire’s.

Her parents had their own charming New Year’s tradition — they got together with four other couples for a big fancy dinner. The men did all the cooking, and each man was in charge of a different part of the dinner — appetizers, veggies, main course, dessert, or wine. They took turns hosting the event so for the first several years of our own New Year’s bashes, Sapphire’s parents were out, and it was just me and her, and her older brother and a couple of his friends, to sit around and do giant puzzles and listen to music (thanks, Sapph’s bro, for introducing me to the Beatles) and to have deep meaningful conversations about life and boys.

And to make cheese fondue.

The first New Year’s I spent at Sapphire’s, she made cheese fondue for dinner, a favourite family recipe. I’d never had anything so exotic before, and it was so delicious and so special and so very grown up that we immediately decided to do it every year. She always did the cooking while I entertained with amusing stories and drank enough gingerale to work up a really good sugar high. Then we’d gorge on the fondue — a recipe meant for four people, but split just between us two — and then we’d eat candy until three or four in the morning, before crashing wherever we could find a soft surface.

One year her parents were hosting the big dinner, so we had to have New Year’s at my house instead. Sapph drove herself down from Barrie and when she arrived, she had with her a big bowl with the cheese fondue inside. We warmed it in the microwave and refused to share it with my mom or any of my sisters. Get your own traditions! It was still yummy even after two hours in the car.

Over our years at university, we drifted apart — we were off stream from each other, which meant one of us was always working while the other one was at school. We made new friends and were busy studying and we only managed to call or write every few months. But we always had our New Year’s fondue to look forward to.

Eventually we graduated and I got married and she got engaged, and since we now lived very far apart and were starting our own families with new traditions, that was the end of the fondue parties. Sadly, it was also kind of the end of our friendship — we did the Christmas card thing for several years, but they moved and we moved and we had kids and family obligations that kept us from visiting, and now I haven’t talked to her in at least three or four years. I do miss her.

As a wedding gift, she gave me a fondue pot. Nestled inside was this:

In Holland, where Gouda reigns supreme, the Jones’ Famous Cheese Fondue is widely renowned from the shores of the North Sea to the heart of Germany’s Black Forest. This closely guarded family recipe has been passed from generation to generation and has only recently been made available to a privileged few.

I’d give you the recipe, but then I’d have to kill you.

and I, without fail, have made this recipe every year for New Year’s Eve since we have been married. I sometimes make it for other special occasions, like ‘ birthday, but it’s really a New Year’s tradition.

Making the fondue always makes me think of Sapphire, and I wonder if she is having some too.