Just finished our dinner of Julia Child's

[Warpy]

11. That's the conclusion I came to, also

since it gave me a raging headache. I don't know why the French make everything so boozy, I just know I can't take it. Besides, the ex preferred my Irish stew to Julia's. I was grateful. Half a bottle of Porter deepened the flavor without overwhelming it.

I suppose if you're in Paris in the bad old days before refrigeration and the meat had gone off by the time you got it, all that alcohol killed the pathogens while masking the taste of necrotic beef. It doesn't do anything that good these days.