Remember my post from eons ago, where I told you all about my favorite family tradition? Here it is, you guys—the fabled Filly family cake flip.
After dinner, a giant cake was wheeled out onto the dance floor. The very smart venue coordinators took a measure to protect the dance floor, and they put down a tarp. Officiant F took a look at the tarp and went, “What? They don’t believe in me?” I mean, if I were the venue and I knew a dude who’d had a few drinks would be flinging a cake up into the air in the middle of my dance floor…yeah, I’d put a tarp down too.
(Side note: I feel like most people in the wedding industry have seen it all and it takes a lot to surprise them. My vendors—the venue, the photographer, the baker—were all shocked when I told them about the cake flip. Guess who’s a special snowflake?)
All photos courtesy of Aleksey Photography, as usual
Just to be clear, we were counting the flip cake as part of the cake that would be served to our guests. So if F dropped it…well, let’s just say he was under a lot of pressure here.
The room went silent…no, actually, once our friends caught on to what was happening, they started a raucous, “Flip the cake!” chant.
And you know I got it on video, too.
Is that not the most badass thing you’ve ever seen, or what?
The successfully flipped cake was whisked back into the kitchen to be cut up and served to our guests. Meanwhile, it was time for a far less exciting event—the cake cutting.
Our cake was set up against a mirrored wall in the ballroom—I loved the effect.
I didn’t blog about our cake, because frankly, as long as it tasted good, I didn’t give a hoot what it looked like. I just sent our baker a bunch of inspiration photos and let him go to town. I love how each tier has a different design. In hindsight, I might have preferred something a little simpler, but at the end of the day? Not a big deal. Cake design wasn’t at the top of my priority list, and I think ours came out pretty nice, even if it’s not exactly what I’d envisioned.
Especially because the cake was so freaking delicious—we had a vanilla/chocolate chip cake with raspberry mousse filling. Not like chunks of raspberries—I’m one of those people who is anti-cooked fruit in baked goods; I hate the texture—but a smooth, tart-sweet raspberry cloud of wonderful. Oh, and NO FONDANT. Buttercream all the way. (If I’m being honest, it was the most delicious buttercream frosting I’ve ever had in my entire life.)
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Before we eat the cake, we have to cut the damn thing.
Look at us, working together to hold a sharp knife. Teamwork.
Sheer panic. I’m going, “Wait, we’re actually supposed to cut a piece? WHAT?!” Not joking. I’m an idiot.
Once we’d managed to extract a (mangled) piece of cake, we each fed each other a bite. No utensils here, because we’re classy like that.
FEED FAT CHICK ALL THE CAKE.
When our guests realized there would be no cake smashing, there were audible groans of disappointment. Sorry, not sorry. I wasn’t spending lord-only-knows-how-much on hair and makeup just to have buttercream frosting smeared all over the moneymaker. (Related: when discussing the cake smashing or lack thereof prior to the wedding, Stallion negotiated a bunch of concessions from me in order to not do it—namely, I had to buy him a pizza and fold the laundry that week—and once I’d agreed to it, he revealed that he’d never intended on cake smashing me at all and he was just making fun of me. Jerk.)
Anyway, that candy bar I mentioned earlier? That was open for business, too.
The candy bar was along each side of the cake, and we stocked it with goodies unique to (or at least characteristic of) the Jersey Shore—fudge, chocolate-covered strawberries, saltwater taffy, and caramel popcorn.
Not enough dessert for you? No worries, there’s more! To go with the candy bar, we had a Viennese table featuring cream puffs, Napoleons, cannoli, and other goodies that I don’t really remember. (Nor do I have pictures of, at least not that I can find.) And we had sweet little purple takeout containers for everybody to fill up to their heart’s desire. Taking to heart Mrs. Phone Booth’s post about branding, we used a cool custom monogram on the containers (and the photo booth strips, but I forgot to mention that in my last post).
Our monogram. It required ~mad art skillz~ on my part. (via Wedding Chicks—I LOVE their freebies!)
We had more dessert than I could shake a stick at, and just like dinner, I never got around to eating it. Well, that’s kind of a lie—I scarfed down my piece of cake on my way down to the after party, but I completely missed out on the candy bar and Viennese table. But everyone else enjoyed it, and that’s the important part.
Is there ever a thing as too much dessert? If so, did I meet that threshold? Serious question, people.
Missed one? Catch up on the fun!
- I humblebrag about how awesome our wedding day was.
- We rehearse and dine.
- A minor marriage license snafu means there might not be a wedding after all.
- The girls get glam.
- The guys escape to the beach.
- We have our first look.
- We take a trolley tour of Cape May.
- The processional begins.
- I walk down the aisle with my parents by my side.
- We make it official.
- Our receiving line was a great idea.
- We skip cocktail hour, but our guests sure enjoyed it.
- We make a grand(ish) entrance.
- Our first dance is pretty Boss.
- We chow down, and things start to get a little rowdy in the photo booth.