As I enter my fourth decade on planet Earth I'm glad to say that the only hangovers I'm party to these days are the kinds portrayed in theaters and in books. There were a few dangerous years between nineteen and twenty-two when hangovers were a regular thing and so a book like The Hungoevr Cookbook, while very appealing to me now, would fall under my twenty-year old radar for several reasons. First, in the throes of a hangover, I had no appetite the next morning. Sips of cold water and a few crackers were all I managed to keep my stomach settled. Stumbling to class was a feat, opening a cookbook sporting eye-assaulting gold and red pages (ACK!) and assembling a meal with a throbbing headache, cottonmouth, and fuzzy brain, was beyond my ken.
That said, Milton Crawford's book is a perfect remedy for the high-functioning social drinker or alcoholic with a well-stocked pantry. Based on P.G Wodehouse's six hangovers, Crawford concocts a bevy of appetizing breakfast fare to drag the addled brain from its dehydrated fug. But before embarking on the recipes, hangover sufferers face a barrage of optically and logically challenging tests that measure the true level of their cognitive dysfunction. That's the fun part, then the heavy-duty cooking begins.
No, actually, that's where Hungoevr breaks into breakfasts and drinks categorized according to the type of hangover you're experiencing. They are: The Broken Compass, The Sewing Machine, The Comet, The Atomic, The Cement Mixer, and The Gremlin Boogie. Further, Milton rates each recipe by star as to its level of difficulty so that you might gauge whether you should chuck it all and head for your favorite brunch place, or simply return to bed for another few hours.
The breakfast dishes, and drinks--mostly lassis and soda-water based citrus mixtures--are sure to soothe trembling tummies. Japanese, Indian, Turkish, and Mexican-inspired dishes appear, but the most appealing collection fell into the Sewing Machine chapter: The Elvis Presley peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwich.
Because when it comes down to it, nothing makes me feel better than channeling the King:
A little less conversation, a little more action please
All this aggravation aint satisfactioning me
A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark
Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me
Satisfy me baby
So while at first glance you might dismiss this book as a novelty or gimmicky thing, it's actually a tight treatise on breakfast. Oh, there was the disappointing Perfect tea and toast on page 102. For toast you have a packet of bread mix and make and bake the bread. It's very Sandra Lee. Seems easier to use the bread on hand you brought in from Whole Foods, right? That's my only complaint. Otherwise, it's a smart book with clever breakfast recipes sure to impress any number of persons who might wake up in your home after a night's debauch of the liquor cabinet.