I loved just about everything regarding our lovely four-tiered and whip-cream covered cake. It was perfect with its scrumptious layers of strawberry shortcake, mango passion fruit, red velvet and chocolate ganache made with light and fluffy sponge cake.
The intricate op-amp diagram piped onto the corners, just like Mr. Sew had designed.
The way our little power poles spiraled up the cake to the top.
Keroro and Tamama sitting together on a red heart under a lone LED street lamp.
I loved everything.
Kristy, our amazing cake coordinator from Satura Cakes, dropped off Mr. Sew’s “baby” to the venue, along with three sheet cakes of mango passion fruit, tiramisu and strawberry shortcake. We planned on 120 servings for 100 guests.
Our guests were really fascinated with our light-up cake—even to the point of making Mr. Sew come to the microphone to “explain the significance.”
He did his best to not turn our reception into a lecture on circuitry.
…After class was over, it was time to cut the cake.
That’s good and all, except after we cut it, I only saw a plate nearby, and no fork or spoon with which to serve my husband.
|(Photo by family) “Hmmm. What to do?”|
So I fed him with the knife.
|(Photo by family)|
My family, no doubt ashamed of my behavior, say I look like the poster child for “bridezilla.” Is this how my future grandchildren are to remember me? Oh well.
Mr. Sew, for some reason, decided to make me look extra evil. He walked around until he found a spoon, fed me, and then dabbed at my face with a napkin.
|(photo by family)|
Well, I guess he wanted to make it clear that he is a gentleman and not a crude, knife pointing maniac. (I was told later we were supposed to have fed each other with our fingers. My bad.)
An awkward silence fell for a little bit after that exchange. I think people fully expected us to do some cake smashing next, what with the knife and all. I guess we’re not the smashing type.
At the end of the night, all the sheet cakes were eaten, but our fabulous cake stood whole and uncut. I had failed to account for the large number of diabetics in attendance, and should have had a sugar-free alternative available. In any case, a friend walked up, confused. He didn’t know about the sheet cakes, and was wondering what the heck he was eating, if not our big cake tower. After explaining the sheet cakes, he exclaimed that our cake “was a lie.” Hardy har har.
During cleanup, we cut up the cake and started passing out huge chunks of cake to anyone still dancing around. There was a literal fight over the red velvet, I tell you. Most of it went home to family, my brother took some to share with the homeless, and all the out of town guests had enough cake to last them the rest of the trip.
We took our top tier of strawberry shortcake back to the hotel, too. But once we got there, and found some cold-cut sandwiches and poke in the fridge from that morning—meat suddenly sounded tastier than cake.
And thus, the story of how we failed to eat more than one bite of our wedding cake, which I was so-very-much looking forward to eating.
Luckily, there’s a Satura Cakes here in Palo Alto, so maybe we’ll get to eat our strawberry shortcake on our anniversary or something.
In summary –
- Don’t feed your new husband with a knife.
- TRY to eat some of your cake on your wedding!
(Unless otherwise noted, all images by Terra Photography)
Our wedding week in review:
- We took care of some last minute DIY details, and officialized everything.
- We vacationed with our out-of-towners, and threw a yummy welcome beach brunch.
- Mr. Sew saluted an angry dragon during our wedding rehearsal, and we sniffed at our dinner.
- Wal-Mart crashed my bachelorette.
- The women magically transformed, and Mr. Sew tied me into our dress.
- There was a windy photo shoot on the beach, and then we hung out at the chapel in flat shoes.
- We marched to the altar and got married.
- Everyone was camera-happy.
- Reception time! A bustle for our first dance, and then it was time to eat.
- I wore a kimono, and then fed some lions.
- We tried a bouquet pull