I can’t write a post about ice cream and cake without thinking about this old Baskin Robbins commercial:
The video’s caption on YouTube declares “best 16 seconds of my life… ^_^”
…That’s about right. Kind of embarrassing (but really, no shame): whenever we go out for dessert, or even if we’re just pulling a pint of ice cream out of our freezer, Mr. W and I chant, “Ice cream and cake and cake! Ice cream and cake and cake!” Yeah, we’re four-year-olds like that…
Anyway, to refresh you on the dessert sitch: Mr. W and I do not like wedding cakes. We love pretty much anything full of butter and coated in sugar, but there’s something a little…dull about wedding cakes. I think it’s the fondant frosting. And also how many are baked a few days in advance—they always taste so dry. So instead, I thought it would be fun to have a pie competition: to ask all of our local guests to bring homemade pies to the wedding, and we would award ribbons for best pies. Yum, right?! But I realized that many of our local guests are Persians who weren’t brought up baking classic American pies, so asking guests to bake pies would be an imposition.
Mr. W just last night, sitting on the kitchen floor, eating Nutella straight out of the jar. My soul mate. Also, proof of our sugar addiction. / Personal photo
Enter Mama Wallaby. She felt bad that the pie thing wouldn’t work out, so she suggested we rent—wait for it—an ice cream truck! I don’t think that suggestion was even up for debate. We booked an ice cream truck within, like, minutes.
But we weren’t off the hook with the cake thing. Mama Wallaby’s favorite part about weddings is the cake. Her own wedding cake was a pretttt-ty big deal and she wouldn’t hear of no cake at our wedding. Bah! So Mr. W and I went along with it. We knew just the place to order a cake too. Here’s the thing about Mr. W’s Persian family: If you need anything, there’s a Persian in town who can do it for you. Car problems? Father-in-Law Wallaby “knows a guy” (i.e., knows another Persian guy who will charge us half what anyone else would). Need insurance? You bet there’s a guy who will take care of you. You already know where I’m going with this: We found a bakery run by a Persian family to commission our wedding cake. Mr. W and I went on a little cake-tasting date with my parents, and we unanimously decided on a three-layer cake, each layer a different flavor: carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, red velvet with cream cheese frosting, and tiramisu with buttercream frosting. Are you drooling yet? If you’re not, you should be, because there’s also ice cream in this post.
Anyway, cut to the cake cutting at our wedding. I ordered a cute Kate Spade cake knife and server set, which lived up to its reviews (and cuteness). We had no idea which layer we were supposed to cut into, so we went for the bottom later and dug in. So easy, guys. Probably the easiest thing all day. I’m still boggled by the importance of cake cutting, but don’t mind me.
Totally about to chop off his arm. Get yo paws off my cake!!!
We never discussed cake smashing in advance, but Mr. W is a class act. He resisted the urge to throw the cake in my face. Instead, we smeared a little frosting on each other’s noses and called it a day. Cute enough, right?
We also had an awesome groom’s cake to cut into, compliments of Groomsman J’s mama. She gifted us a tres leches cake, decorated with the University of Houston Cougars logo. Mr. W would probably tell me to tell you all, “Go Coogs!!! (Rawwwwrrrr.)”
Right on cue, after the cake cutting was over, old-timey music came floating from over in the driveway, where our glorious ice cream truck was parked. Behold:
Truth: no matter how excited I was to book this super-vendor, I had completely forgotten about it on our wedding day. I was so carried away by the ceremony, the emotions, the sweet toasts, that the arrival of the ice cream truck caught me by surprise. Everyone pretty much swarmed over to it, and Mr. W and I ran over to climb up into the truck and start serving out ice cream pops.
Shannon, the owner of said ice cream truck, offered a pretty amazing selection of ice cream and popsicles, including Push-Ups, ice cream sandwiches, Skinny Cow truffle bars, Dora the Explorer and Spiderman popsicles, Bluebell Bombsticks, and, my fave, Choco Tacos. She emailed me the week of the wedding letting me know that she even had boozy ice cream flavors for adults—like boozy eggnog and spiced apple brandy cider. Yuummmm.
Things got a little cray, because everyone wanted ice cream at once and we didn’t know which ice creams were in which boxes. I think Shannon did most of the work, and Mr. W and I just stared at each other with googly eyes. Big surprise there.
And of course, we got our perfunctory leaning-out-of-an-ice-cream-truck shots.
In the next 24 hours, there was this flurry of Facebook posts by our guests involving ice cream bars and popsicles. I think it was a hit.
We had debated renting a photo booth for our wedding. But believe it or not, the cost of the ice cream truck was half the cost of a photo booth—and I think it was the perfect surprise for our outdoor wedding. After we stepped out of the truck, I savored every single bite of my Choco Taco. Remember how I said I was too nervous to eat more than a few bites of cornbread? Yeah, the Choco Taco was pretty much the only substantial thing I ate all day. Perfect.
*All photos by the dreamy Mustard Seed Photography, except where noted
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