My grandparents live a few miles down some very long, bumpy dirt road on the edge of Nairobi, in a tiny wood cabin on stilts surrounded by hibiscus, bougainvillea, frangipane, morning glory, pink sorrel, overgrown taro plants, fruiting avocado trees, other things too. Their windows can't close. They stay open all day and night. It's wonderful.
Not just any Gibson, but the one you drink at Prune while catching up with dear friends.
Fell down a google-image hole almost entirely unrelated to my research and it looked like this:
I refer to the instructions my father sent me six years ago:
You'll need good cheese. 50-60% good (unsalted) Gruyere grated big, 30-35% Appenzeller grated big, 15-20% Vacherin Fribourgeois (cut into small cubes).
You could replace the Gruyere with French Comte. You could replace the Appenzeller with another sharp cheese. The last cheese is excellent and not really replaceable.
Cut a clove of garlic in half and rub the caquelon with it. If you crush the garlic into the cheese (some people do) I think it overpowers the fondue.
Pour dry white wine in the caquelon and bring to simmer. Add a mixture of kirsch (don't use the American one you took from my bar, use the Swiss one (or is it German?), there's a little left in the bottle) and a teaspoon of cornflour to the simmering wine.
If you don't have Kirsch, and don't want to buy any, you could use vodka, I guess.
Add the two grated cheeses. Simmer over a low flame. Keep the cheese at the bottom moving so it doesn't stick. When they've melted, add the cubed Vacherin Fribourgeois. When that's melted, adjust thickness either with wine or wine plus a little cornflour.
Fresh ground pepper is optional, I'd say do it at the table. And remember to cut the bread several hours before so it dries out a bit.
Dusting off my weird old story about late English romance novelist Barbara Cartland and her cookbook, The Romance of Food. Happy Valentine's Day!