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And a Healthy New Year, Of Course (or, Who You Calling a Ho?)

We had so much food.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  It wasn’t Christmas dinner.  It was the White House Correspondents’ Dinner.  There was crostini with roasted tomatoes and mozzarella, and the best pepper dip this side of Harry & David.  There was turkey, and ham, and David’s mom’s lasagna.  There was green beans, and corn, and my aunt’s mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and my mom’s stuffing, with homemade biscuits to go along with them.   We had malbec and cabernet, and Sam Adams winter pack on ice, and two open bottles of sparkling wine.   There would have been Brussels sprouts, which I’d roasted the day before thinking I’d just heat them up and throw more salt on them (have you had roasted Brussels sprouts?  I’ve never liked the things–those strange-looking, mini cabbages–but roasted, with lots of kosher salt, they taste like vegetables that waged a bet with French fries, lost, and are now forced to wear their underwear over their clothes for a year.  That’s a good thing), but then I decided…