Happy New Year

Just back from a wonderful New Year's dinner for sixteen, heavy on musical and literary types, where everyone brought a course. After an unprecedented double mayo disaster much too late in the afternoon, my promised crudités with aïoli were replaced by crudités with a flung-together substitute dip I dubbed Post-Apocalyptic Pantry Surprise; can't remember quite what was in it but Paul Newman featured, as did Beerenberg, and a bit of sharp mustard and a lot of fresh garlic and some leftover whipped cream. Astonishingly, it tasted quite good. Food Award of the Night went to the lovely Deb's duck with beetroot blinis and spiced cherries, but her husband's palate-cleansing sorbet (good bought lemon gelati whipped up with lime juice, re-frozen, and garnished with lime zest to serve) was pretty flash as well.

Nor did I get breath-tested on the way home, though I'm sure I would have been okay, in spite of that final slurp of Drambuie.

Need to be up bright and early in the morning to trot puffing after two more deadlines as they whoosh by. This year I resolve to improve my health, keep my temper, spend less time mucking about online, and say No to the occasional offer of work in order to be a better and more attentive friend, neighbour, home owner, family member, love interest, cat owner servant and gardener.

And a happy, healthy, hopeful New Year to all.