New Year's Eve at Abbraccio

Although the details are a little fuzzy in my memory for some odd reason, suffice it to say that New Year's Eve 2007 at Abbraccio was a gas. I managed to disable the surveillance cameras long enough to spend some quality time with Ms. Milly D'Abbraccio, the restaurant's hot new hostess, madam and charges d'affaires, back in the Boom Boom room quaffing absinthe cocktails, dancing up a storm, and getting to know each other.

Ms. Milly D'Abbraccio

After the midnight fireworks and all the shouting and shooting had died down, I made my way unsteadily back to 48th St, gathering up the skins of the unfortunate feral cats, ferrets and an opossum or two who had gotten in the way of the fusillade, and had time to dissect the quarry and prepare a savory stew whose medicinal qualities plus a hair of the dog that bit me were successful in helping to avoid the sort of nasty headache that frequently ensues after a late night out at Abbraccio. The pelts, sewn together, made a fetching tarp which when stretched taut over my hot tub not only guards against winged intruders of the night but also now serves as a drum head upon which, when I beat a tattoo, will summon those who know the signal to a festive soiree. So a word to the wise, and you know who you are -- keep an ear out.