The place is tiny. I mean, you could blink and miss it. It’s loud, it’s chaotic, and the music is a little too cool for school.
But that’s the charm. You’re crammed next to strangers, all united by a single, sacred mission: eat as much hot cheese as humanly possible. The staff are cheerful, but they move like they’re fighting a beautiful, delicious war.
You order a plate of cheese base (that’s the raclette), and then you watch the belt. The anticipation is maddening. Is that a potato with cheese? A cornichon? Yes, please.
