Legal: Thai Iced Tea with Boba

-The end of conservative America looks like this apparently.-

So this weekend I didn't do much cooking. I was too busy getting married. You may recall last year that my husband Brian and I had a rather lovely wedding. Here's what though, that was just a ceremony. At the time we were unable to make it legal due to Prop 8 - the proposition that banned gay marriage in California - still being in play.

Well, now it's not thanks to some very smart lawyers and a civil-minded Supreme Court ruling.

So Brian and I went to the courthouse on our one year anniversary and tied the knot again.

It was a simple thing, we paid a fee, filled out some forms, brought some witnesses, and a had a quick five minute ceremony where we exchanged rings under an awning that had seen untold couples exchange vows under a cloud of silk flowers.

And now we're legally married in the eyes of the state and the federal government.

The Wedding

No recipe as I'm away at a three day intensive cheese education class learning more about the chemistry and biology of cheese. Instead I offer you the last wedding post. Seriously. Swear to god.

It's just a few of the thousand-plus photos, but it'll give you a good idea of what went down.

I encourage you to share these with a friend who doesn't believe in gay marriage. These pictures demonstrate that, obviously, Husband and I are a threat to their personal morals and the degradation of society as a whole. We must be stopped before we have brunch or something, which will inevitably - somehow - demean straight marriage and bring about some stylishly planned apocalypse. (I'm fuzzy on the argument. Send them here next for my rebuttal.)

At the end of the post is a copy of the reading from the ceremony, "The Day the Saucers Came," by Neil Gaiman. Wonky, odd, delightful, and involving zombies.

Our recessional music was Trip the Light, by Alicia Lemke. Upbeat and it felt very right. The perfect song to spend the first few minutes married together to.



Our first dance was, "Marry Me," by Train. The mother-son dance song was classically, "I Want to Hold Your Hand," by The Beatles. The group dance being some classic Aerosmith ballads ("I Don't Want to Miss a Thing," obviously). The last dance was, "Fly Me to the Moon," preformed by the dapper Olivia Ong.



I doubt I need to point it out but this post will be image heavy. Enjoy.

Garrett out.

Fiancé Revealed: Vanilla and Corn Summer Salad

-I really do wish that all my posts started with champagne.-

No formal post today. Instead I want to share some pictures from my recent engagement shoot. Our photographer, Sarah Maren, arrived for a BBQ lunch at our home along with her husband, our florist, and our wedding planner. It was a rather relaxed meal. We went through a pitcher or three of white sangria loaded with peaches, apricots, nectarines, triple sec, and mint. I made my reliable pluot almond cake. Fiancé went to work at the grill with chicken slathered in a homemade coffee-chipotle barbeque sauce as well as southern-style dry rubbed ribs. I used my friend Tori’s recipe for watermelon and feta salad. I also crafted up a quick and adoringly addictive vanilla and corn salad bejeweled with cherry tomatoes from the garden for which the recipe is provided at the end.

It was light, breezy, and just what you wanted in heat that threatens to set you alight. And while it was odd trying to pose for two cameras clicking away it was fun and strangely intimate, too.

Also, I just realized that I’ve never introduced you all properly to Fiancé. Now seems a good time.

-Of course, the cat demands your attention, too.-

This is Brian. I’m very happy for you all to finally meet.

Favors: Cranberry Jam

-A bit of thanks for everyone.-

"So what kind of ceremony were you planning to have?" asked Kate, my and Fiance's friend and wedding planner. A tall brunette with librarian's glasses and a designer's wardrobe poignantly market with Kate Spade (natch) I watched her mentally tick off various aspects of the big day as she took stock of what then, depending on our answers, needed to be done.

"Um, just a short one I think?" Kate gave me a rather concerned glare. I looked to Fiance who had conveniently turned away and proceeded to examine the rather impressive and near-to-scale and intimidating recreation of Stonehenge that our host, John, had built a few years back on a gardening whim so as to appear unaware of the question. I turned back to Kate, "Like, ten minutes long. Or so?"

"Yes, but what kind? Like a sand ceremony or what?" she queried harder, hoping her example would spark some kind of flame in my nuptial noggin. Sadly, her flint was weak. Or, more likely, I lack the tinder.

-Or a bit of both...-

"Kate, I have no idea what the words you are saying mean."

"Okay, how about a chocolate and wine ceremony?" The C-Word got Fiance's attention but he didn't know the question. We met her, this time together, with blank stares. She sighed and rubbed her temples. "Okay, it's a ceremony that uses chocolate to symbolize the bitter times and wine to celebrate the sweet times. Very fun, very unique, very foodie. I'd think you guys would like it."

Fiance and I exchanged looks, nodded, and gave our assent to the planner that yes, that sounded lovely. She then began to talk about processions (we'll have a short one), corsages (just for me as Fiance will be in military dress), wedding party (none, it's a guest list of 50 for Christ's sake), and so on. The bulk of the exchange was poor Kate lobbing darts at the board of our collective likes and dislikes and seeing what stuck.

I began to suspect that my lack of answers to apparently the most basic questions about various wedding considerations was beginning to exasperate her. The entire concept of planning a wedding to us is probably more confusing to us than reading sanskrit, contemplation of the universe and our place within it, and Michele Bachman. Still, she just mostly smiled through the whole thing and like a mother leading a toddler through a crowded place delicately made sure I knew what I was doing and that Fiance and I made sound decisions that would be right for us.

Who knew so much went into one of these hooplahs?