A Brief History Of: Hangover Cures

Whatever your reasons — celebration, loneliness, attempting to figure out what "Auld Lang Syne" actually means — if you drank too much on Dec. 31, you probably rang in the New Year with a pounding headache and regular trips to the bathroom. If so, don't worry; you wouldn't be the first person to endure a hangover, and although it may feel like it, you won't be the last.

When the ancient Assyrians felt the painful aftereffects of excess merriment, they consumed a mixture of ground birds' beaks and myrrh. In the Middle Ages, bleary Europeans munched on raw eel and bitter almonds. Mongolians ate pickled sheep's eyes, while the Chinese went with a more palatable dose of green tea. The Germans eat Katerfrühstück, a postbinge breakfast of herring, pickles and goulash. Russians don't eat anything at all; they jump into the sauna and sweat it out. In 1845, Italian Bernardino Branca developed a cure-all he called Fernet — an 80-proof concoction containing myrrh, rhubarb, aloe, peppermint oil and opiates — to treat ailments like hangovers and cholera. Fernet is still available (now opiate-free), although it's usually served as an after-dinner drink.

American remedies typically include tomato juice and occasionally a raw egg (for protein), although the past decade has seen the debut of pills that supposedly help the liver by absorbing toxins. But alcohol's by-products are only part of the problem: dehydration and out-of-whack electrolytes can't be fixed with a pill. A traditional Japanese remedy, umeboshi (pickled plums), is currently touted by Hollywood nutritionist Esther Blum. But whatever your tonic of choice, remember that it probably won't work. Hangovers exist for a reason: your body is telling you that you drank too much.