Nevada City is an evolving mix of old nineteenth century nostalgia, rugged rural California, hobo-chic hippy, New Age crystal-toting mumbo jumbo, and modern development trying to capitalize on it all. Our rehearsal dinner site and attached airBNB, Reiki Kitchen, appropriately captured all of it. The beautiful, verdant garden patio was to be the focal point for our meal, but an unexpected early cold front -- September is usually the hottest month, they said! -- meant everything got moved indoors. Thankfully there was a beautiful altar of buddhas and knick-knacks perched above everyone's heads in the side dining hall to really set the tone instead. Kathleen, the friendly but slightly flighty venue owner, had a prepackaged decor which simplified the planning. Emily, the nice but often hard to get in contact with caterer, provided a delicious meal. My parents generously provided the funds. And all we had to do was show up and enjoy. Never to be satisfied with good enough, however, Liz insisted on bringing some greenery to spruce up the place. We chose about three dozen tiny succulents. And by succulents I mean mostly tiny cacti. Perfectly sized to fit in the palm of your hand.
The rehearsal itself took considerably more planning and the plans broke down accordingly. Apparently there was a forty-six car, train, plane, space shuttle pile up on I-80 E leading to an additional couple hours beyond the usual couple of hours it takes to get to Nevada City from the Bay Area, so a good portion of the wedding party was late or absent. The portion that did make it on time spent their free time spreading filthy lies, telling me they had forgotten the Best (Wo)man at the airport. The wedding rehearsal was therefore pushed back an hour, the traitorous members of the wedding party were flogged in accordance with frontier justice, and my Best Woman was replaced by Butternut Beagle, who behaved as a true lady. We nevertheless mostly got it done -- which was good 'cause I had no idea how a wedding procession was actually supposed to go-- and we then headed across town, a good quarter of a mile, for dinner.
[I, on the other hand, went pretty nuts trying to coordinate a small group of wedding party participants and a large group of hangers-on, who were minimally committed to the task at hand, and more interested in getting wine, moving inside where it was warmer, talking to the venue people, chatting to each other, etc. This is when I became truly worried that our best-laid plans for timing, blocking, and coordination would be for nought. Also when I became a little short with our beloved relatives, but I was desperate.]
Dinner, after multiple rounds of negotiation and high level mediation, in the end consisted of a buffet of salt and pepper tri tip, chicken provencal, stuffed portabello mushrooms, rosemary roasted potatoes, seasonal roasted vegetables, garlic green beans, grilled vegetable couscous, and two salads whose ingredients almost led to an international incident. Presumably it was greens and other bits of an unremarkable entirely forgettable nature. This was complemented by a dessert buffet consisting of vanilla cream puffs, cheesecake bites, chocolate covered strawberries, lemon bars, and mini chocolate cupcakes. It initially seemed to me like a lot of dessert, but in the end it turned out to be just right. Although polls have closed, it remains unclear which dessert was the favorite. I personally thought the cream puffs were most delicious, but I hear cheesecake bites may have the led in early exit-polling. I blame gerrymandering. [The guests I asked all voted for cheesecake bites. We probably tossed enough food that night to feed 15 Nevada City hobos.]
The rehearsal dinner also had a special guest, as is custom in the Sierra foothills. The Pumpkin Bride, as local tradition tells it, arrives via stage coach every fall to wish newlyweds a prosperous future and bountiful squash harvest. She not only came and regaled us with her folksy gourd stories, but stayed through the evening as our guest of honor. To the Pumpkin Bride!
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| Said to be one of the most beautiful pumpkins in all the land. |
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| This shirt may in fact already be in the trash. Unconfirmed. [Please note that the bride's father acted independently, and the bride had nothing to do with the gifting of this shirt.] |
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