The body count this morning indicates that the ten drinkers consumed sixteen and a half bottles of Nicolas Feuillatte and one of Piper Hideandseek or whatever it's called. When Paul came round to collect his coldbag (and some uneaten cake), he said: 'Is that all?' Actually, come to think about it, it's not really that much over seven hours, is it? (though it didn't feel thay way at 3 a.m. on 1/1/09). Amazingly, no other alcohol was knowingly imbibed (apart from Andrea's three bottles of Carlsberg Low Alcohol lager - she has a very good excuse.) So I have nine unopened reds and six whites to do something useful with. Perhaps I should have another party ...
Plugging the laptop into the hi-fi and letting people loose on iTunes was a very good move. People took turns to sit down and play DJ so that I could carry on dancing with impunity. A mark of a good party - I was forced by Paul, at two o'clock, to put on 'Trampled Underfoot' by Led Zeppelin (on vinyl!)
Just before midnight we googled the original Robbie Burns lyrics to Auld Lang Syne and displayed them on the telly so that they could be totally ignored by all.
The food mostly vanished in minutes, including about a kilo and a half of chilli con carne. The one major miscalculation on my part was french bread. What can I do with six stale baguettes (out of eight purchased)? Don't say 'breadcrumbs', that lot would keep me in weiner schnitzel and meatballs for months.
Clearing up is mostly done, but my so-called non-stick roasting tin might be a goner after Gordon Ramsey's suspect spicy sticky chicken drumsticks did their worst. Val suggested simmering it on the stove with some Fairy liquid, 'like making gravy', but my appetite's not quite up to that yet.