Sistah woke me up with a phone call on Saturday morning.
“Yo, when are you getting here?”
“Why the fuck are you calling me this early?”
“What are you talking about? When are you leaving?”
“Oh, shit. Sorry. I thought it was a half hour earlier than it was. Never mind. I’m getting ready. I’ll be there by like 1:30.”
And there began my graceful trek to my homeland down state for my girlfriend’s wedding reception. Thank god for Sistah calling me and waking my ass up. It figures the one time I’d oversleep would be on the same day I had to be down state for a reception. I’m sure drinks the night before at Ryan’s Wake did nothing to help (man, on another note, I hadn’t been out to a bar in a WHILE before that).
The bride and groom were married in a small ceremony just about a month ago. I went down for the bachelorette party, and man, this is the way to do a wedding. Seriously, if anyone wants me to be there for their hen night and reception, I’m totally down.
The reception was super casual, and held in a local fire house. I was expecting a moderately casual affair, but her family is full-blooded Italian and there was a spread of food and drinks the likes of which made me want to flip cartwheels.
Oooh, tasty salad and tortellini in creamy ham sauce.
Dear. Goodness. Two trays of everything. And everything was AMAZING. I was expecting your usual deli spread of so-so sauced and cheesed foods for a party and was happily surprised with what tasted like home cooking.
DO YOU SEE THE SIZE OF THAT SANDWICH???? It was huge. Ham, sweet cappicola, prosciutto, hot cappy, greenery. Oh my gosh, that was the sandwich of my dreams. Albany John had trouble eating his in whole bite, but said I looked like a snake eating prey. Mouth, make room. Sandwich comin’ at ya!
And that fava bean salad? Ohhh, that fava bean salad.
Best of all was the cheesy slurry of sauce. I thought it was eggplant parm, but no… eggplant rollatini. I am in need of eggplant rollatini now. Like, in a bad way. Ricotta, sauce, eggplant, mozzarella. Yes, sign me right the F up.
Oh, dudes, and there were meatballs that were super soft and fluffy. Totally awesome balls of meat. Not too heavy or anything, but still meaty.
Her grandfather MADE THIS CAKE. Like, just the night before, he made the cake. Are you kidding me? He used to work in a bakery, but still – how much love was this? Poppy made the cake for his granddaughter’s wedding? Better than anything you can buy.
Her family was a trip. They totally lived up to the huge Italian family stereotype. She wasn’t kidding. Before she was like “Yeah, this is going to be like 90% my family. I have a ton.” Her hubby is in the military, so he had a handful of friends and his mom come, and the rest were pretty much her family.
Her mom was in frantic Mother of the Bride mode, making sure everything was perfect. And then after her mom would organize and straighten food that was already perfect, her grandparents would walk past and do another straightening.
They also had matching beer coozies. Super cute.
Cake cutting time! I was really looking forward to this one. They had a cute and short speech. The groom initially thanked everyone for joining them in their “captivity”. Haha, whoops, he meant “join in their festivities”.
They smashed cake in their faces. Girlie looked like a smurf when he was done. Haha. Don’t think you can out cake-smush a guy in the military!
Needless to say, grandpa’s wedding cake was awesome. Tender and moist at the same time, and the pastry custard fillings were also a smash.