I love it when foodies tie the knot.
Wedding season is winding down here at Camp WanderChic, and I have to say that I finish this one with a good taste in my mouth.
Recently I traveled to “the other Washington,” as in D.C., for a childhood friend’s nuptials. The bride made all of the dishes for the rehearsal dinner and hosted at their new townhouse, in part because she wanted her 92-year-old grandmother to be proud of her cooking. The menu was upscale autumn comfort food. Des was a graceful host, moving us around the buffet in a joyful Tetris game.
I’m guessing there’s a reason that brides cooking for and hosting their own rehearsal dinners is not a tradition? But Des and her new man were choosy about their ceremony weekend, which I can appreciate. No bouquet toss (thanks be to God, from those of us 30-somethings who really hate being shamed onto the dance floor to clock the junior bridesmaids with our desperate elbows). No chicken dance. No cake cutting. No monkeying with the reception playlist (password protected by the groom. Only turning down the volume permitted two brief toasts before the wait staff absconded with our champagne flutes).
An aside: I’d been looking for a wedding gift for Des that’s useful and fun. Maggie (of previous wedding post) told me that one of their favorites was a Picnic Tote from Picnic Time Inc. I debated both models, the Picnic Time Malibu Insulated Cooler Picnic Tote (service for 2) pictured at the top of this post and the Picnic Time Meritage Insulated Triangular Wine and Cheese Cooler Tote (what a name!) pictured above. Ultimately I was won over by the sleek shape of the triangular tote. (Des, if you’re reading this, the tote should arrive shortly. Sorry for the spoiler).
Des and her new husband opted for what might just be my new favorite wedding tradition: the charter bus. On a sunny afternoon in Alexandria, Virginia, on a day clearly autumn and not pre-winter, just after my friends’ love had been newly sealed, we boarded the bus. The mother of the groom gave us snack bags. And lo, there appeared little bottles of wine and a cooler of beer. And there was much rejoicing.
As we neared the National Mall for some photos, I tore into my gummi bears and goldfish crackers and thought borderline-sentimental thoughts like “love keeps giving.” I pounded my little Shiraz. I left my coat behind to walk in the botanical gardens. The day was just warm enough to risk it.