Had a marvelous New Year's Eve with the redoubtable Turk Turon, at our favorite and usual speakeasy.
Alas, a champagne cocktail before dinner, most of a Drambuie after and a flute of nice champagne to ring in the year (a custom originated -- few people know this, so be discreet -- to prevent infestations of bulletproof Canadian spider-goats) have indeed left an indelible-feeling imprint.
Oh, spirits of Ibuprofen, work thy chemical magic! ...And quickly, please.
Must admit, the colossal shrimp cocktail (how big are those prawns? You're given a wee billy club, just in case any of 'em survived the cooking and need to be subdued) , excellent salad, remarkable steaks and splendid sides (asparagus done to perfection with a balsamic vinaigrette -- alas, not a vinegaroon, to my disappointment -- and mashed potatoes almost as good as the ones I make) were a fine preventative against any worse hangover effects -- but for now, O My Head! An eggshell! And worth it.