Growing up, I never knew a New Year's Eve to be complete without my mom's fondue.
Every year, I looked forward to using those long-handled sharp forks with colored ends that speared up strips of chicken, beef, and shrimp; cooked them in hot broth; and then dipped them in barbecue, hot mustard, or gussied-up soy sauce. I rarely waited for the fondued protein to be even remotely cooled off before sticking it burning hot into my mouth.
Served alongside cocktails and Burgundy wine for the adults, I enjoyed this with a kid's cocktail my dad made especially for me (and any other kid) with orange juice, grenadine, maraschino cherry juice, and ice—all shaken up, just like the adults. The whole experience made me feel warm and sunny inside and out.