On New Year’s Eve we not only resolved to eat dessert first, we did so. We arrived at Santiago Bay in late afternoon. By the time we had anchored, sun was setting. We had no clue where the New Year’s parties were, but took a chance and dinghied towards some palapa restaurants in a far corner off the beach that were lit. Wrong move. The lights were only to shut things down. A taxi lingered outside, but was full. Our Spanish did not yield a clear answer as to if and when anymore taxis would be coming. We walked towards town, twenty minutes ahead on a dark dirt road. Daughter Jean suggested a “kill time” by which we would turn back if more promising prospects did not emerge. Kill time came and we turned back. It was beginning to seem as if the Grinch had come late to steal our New Year’s Eve celebration. As we approached the palapas (still lit for shut down), Jean suggested we ask to see if they would sell us some raw fish. Good idea. “No,” came the quick reply. We walked on. Jean, known for her persistence, suggested we seek a second opinion. “Si,” was the answer on our second attempt. Our benefactor led me across the dusty street to his out building and opened an ice chest big enough to stuff, well at least 4 forty pound dorado (mahi-mahi) and several lobsters as big as my fore arm. We opted for dorado. An ice cream freezer chest strategically flanked the area where I was paying for the fish and we couldn’t resist. No way these puppies would survive the dinghy drive back to Elizabeth Jean. Without hesitation we implemented the time tested recipe for managing life’s uncertainties and ate our dessert first. We steamed the dorado with mushrooms and artichoke hearts. Not the New Year’s Eve we had expected, but one we won’t forget.