Yummy Yummy For My tummy

Posted on August 10, 2009. Filed under: wedding recaps |

Hi, remember me? *waving* I used to blog here, but then I got a serious case of the Recaps and I’ve been fighting it ever since.

1992

Much like my predecessors, I’m struggling to finish them, and I’m going to let you in on a little secret: recaps aren’t nearly as much fun as I once thought they’d be.  We love you guys, our supportive and fantabulous readers, and we sometimes have a hard time trying to live up to your expectations… and our own.  I want to find the words to make you feel like you were there, to make you understand that “it was the best day” is completely genuine, to give you hope and peace and help you get through the meltdowns that we all go through.

2000

And it’s hard, because we are, after all, ourselves.  Like you, we have doubts and regrets and an unwillingness to knock the glitter off.

1955 BW

Oh, yea, and we’re also married. Life on this side of our wedding day is both low-key and busy as all hell.  While my husband and I don’t have this big event looming anymore, we do have friendships to catch up on, dinners to enjoy, neighbors to meet.  Not spending every moment thinking about your wedding frees up some serious time — and a long list of stuff we set aside to get ready for our wedding — and it’s hard to go back to even the best of days to find the right words.

2001

So, forgive us if we don’t always recap as quickly as you’d hoped.  Much like getting married, writing about getting married is an emotional rollercoaster.

On that note, let’s talk about food!

1966

I’ve wanted to write about food since the first moment my Weddingbee application was accepted!  See, I love food.  Love, love, love food.  I’m that person who bounces when my food arrives, the one who learned to cook solely for the eating, the friend who tells you all about her favorite cities by describing the restaurants she loved.

1986

While I confidently and somewhat recklessly declared caterers to be an indulgence we didn’t need, my friends and family held the line: leaving the food up to someone else would be money well spent, they assured me.

Then our good friends, the owners of one of our favorite restaurants, mentioned that they cater.  And the decision was made.

1963 BW

See, we’ve never eaten one. single. thing. made by Marty that wasn’t absolutely incredibly fantastically good.  When inspiration hit, I didn’t hesitate to trust my idea to Marty and his wonderful wife Demi, and boy, did they deliver.

Our menu? South meets Southwest by way of pulled pork and toasted bread.  We offered two sets of fixings: jalapenos + guacamole = torta, or coleslaw + barbeque sauce = pulled pork sandwich.

DSC_1867

Marty smoked the pork butts from Thursday until Sunday and thank goodness we’d already invited our neighbors or they would have followed their noses to our party.

DSC_1868

Yummy. DSC_1862

More importantly (can you believe I’m saying something about CATERERS that’s MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE FOOD?), they were absolutely amazingly supportive.  Really.

“The caterer wants to know if you have cake plates.”

DSC_1876

“Yea, and the cakes are on them, remember?”

{Sidenote: $6.99 cakes from Sam’s Club. Coconut – wedding white —  to make my mama happy, super duper chocolate to make my man happy, and lemon because it’s happy all by itself. And hilariously, we got asked multiple times who we used for the cakes.  “Sam’s Club, $6.99”  The tortes were a gift from our neighbor and they are TO DIE FOR.  Oh, and the cake stands were DIY courtesy of $10 worth of plates and glasses from the Goodwill and some super glue.  From the Dollar Tree.  Because that’s how I roll.}

DSC_1923

“No, plates for serving the cake.”

“Oh… sh*t.”

And then Demi ran out and bought cake plates.  And a serving set.  And gave me a hug and told me not to worry. Now that’s a fabulous caterer.

DSC_1924

Oh, and one more thing: see the egg sandwich Marty’s giving Joey, and Joey’s expression?

1957 BW

Every Saturday we went to their restaurant, Joey ordered a BELT (bacon, egg, lettuce, tomato)… which was not on the menu.  For months he called my husband “IHOP.”  It was a joke between them, and not only did Marty remember, he brought an egg, slice of bacon and two pieces of bread in a little container so he could surprise my hubby.

Did you catch that?  THE MAN MADE SCRAMBLED EGGS ON A GRILL JUST TO MAKE MY HUSBAND LAUGH ON HIS WEDDING DAY.  In that moment, they became my people too.

1958

I could not recommend them more, either as wonderful people, or as amazing chefs.  If you’re looking for a really great caterer who makes real food, the kind of food you can’t wait to eat and enjoy every bite of, even (especially!) on your wedding day, contact Marty and Demi Smith.  You won’t be sorry.  Tell them IHOP’s wife sent you.

And, lest you believe we went booze-less (bite your tongue!), I will admit that the beauteous containers of pretty liquids you see here are, in fact, spiked.  Margaritas (with Blue Curacao intended to make them something blue and instead ended up looking like pool water but nobody cared while drinking them happily), vodka punch and vodka pineapple lemonade.  Despite my numerous reminders, my sister did not label them as alcoholic, leading me to chase down elderly neighbors to warn them they might be imbibing only to be told that they knew this, thankyouverymuch, and were planning to enjoy themselves.

1939

Well. If that’s not a successful party….

Next up: the Cheese’s dance.

2033 BW

Yes, it was seriously cheesy.  See my guy checking out my dance moves?  Yea, more of that.

All photography by Angela Herzog of Angela Herzog Photography (www.angelaherzogphotography.com) unless otherwise noted.  Asterisks (*) indicate that post-processing was done by me, and thus, should not be held against her.  See this post for more details.

Late to the party? See previous recaps here:

Part I: And It Begins

Part II: My People, Part I

Part III: It’s Time

Part IV: Our Ceremony

Part V: My People, Part II

Part VI: Celebrate Good Times, COME ON ALREADY!

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    About

    I’ve been there, done that, got the t-shirt (and divorce papers) to prove it. Here I am again, pledging my life to my (new) love with eyes wide open (and heart racing) knowing full well how emotionally traumatic this can end… and doing it anyway.

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