Apothecary: Newport Bay Restaurant, 10426 Northup Way, 425-827-2722, www.newportbay.com. KIRKLAND

Time of Entry: Noonish Sunday, after Mass at Holy Family Kirkland, which is KING-5 weatherman Jeff Renner’s parish. The priest there delivered a sermon about football and the devil. He also asked the congregation to buck up for a multimillion-dollar capital campaign.

Level of Hangover (1–10 scale, with 10 being a paralyzing head-thumper): 2. I didn’t drink Saturday night on account of the fact that I feel like I owe it to my grandparents not to be hungover in their presence.

How Hungover Does Waitstaff Look? Not at all. What we’ve got here are God-fearing young suburbanites serving God-fearing old suburbanites.

Prescriptions: Strawberry Belgian waffle, eggs, bacon, smoked-salmon Benedict, Southwest chicken omelet, breakfast buffet appeteasers, and dessert (free with any of the aforementioned entrées).

Hair of the Dog: All-you-can-drink champagne, at $3 per bottomless glass.

Success of the Soak: My grandparents are old. Really old. At Newport Bay, they fit right in. Situated off 520 near Lake Washington’s northeastern shore, Newport Bay, with its sprawling floor plan, inoffensive decor, and white wicker chairs, looks as though it’s been airlifted from Boca Raton. While the service is friendly and attentive, the pace of the establishment fits the crowd: slow. That’s not a slight; Newport Bay is set up so you won’t want to leave.

If you so desired, you could ride that bottomless champagne deal all the way to Hammered Heights, just as you could ride the complimentary before-and-after fruit ‘n’ pastry buffet all the way to Couch Potatosville. Such one-and-done gluttony is sort of the point at Newport Bay, just as it should be the point of any proper brunch, a special meal that, as strictly defined, is in short supply round these parts. So, too, are nonagenarians—but not at Newport Bay.