The Wedding, Part II
Saying I was busy the day before my wedding is a understatement on the order of “Kevin Bacon has appeared in a movie.” I woke up in my childhood bedroom at 6 a.m., and by 6:15 it was clear that I should have gotten up at 4. The fudge pies and lemon cake were in various stages of un-bakedness in the kitchen, and the dogs were clamoring for breakfast. The welcome bags, which hadn’t made it to the hotel the night before, were spreading their good cheer through the trunk of my mother’s car. The programs and menus were ready for pick up at the copy shop, and three buckets of wildflowers stood on the dining room table, waiting for someone in my family to tap into a previously undiscovered well of artistic talent and wrangle them into bouquets. Thunder’s new sparkly collar and the flower girl’s ribboned headpiece were somewhere in the basement, where they would remain for the duration of the weekend–the first casualties of the chaos that had befallen my parents’ household.
And yet, I wasn’t nervous. The chance of rain was only 10%. I finally had an idea of what I wanted to say when I wrote my vows, eventually. My bridesmaids had made it to town–even the one who drove ten hours with her drugged up husband after he had an emergency appendectomy and they missed their flights. Overall, things were looking good. I had only one concern the day before my wedding, and it was whether the groomsmen would be wearing pants.
Scott had emailed his groomsmen about their pants six weeks before the wedding. I know this because I saw the email myself. It included several links to acceptable pants choices. The links worked. I know this because later, when we found out that none of the groomsmen had actually purchased any pants, we went back and checked. The email also included information about buying a vest (link included) and when to show up at the rehearsal.
Two weeks before the wedding, we discovered that the groomsmen had deleted Scott’s email, or interpreted it as optional, or just had no intention of wearing pants at all. I called their wives, who indicated that their husbands lacked the life skills necessary to interpret organizational emails, especially ones related to pants, and who promised to rectify the situation immediately.
Of course, by that point the pants were sold-out in many sizes, so alternate pants had to be located by the wives, photographed, and sent to Scott for approval, and then purchased and hemmed. The change in the color of the pants required a change in the color of the vests, which is why the day before the wedding I had no idea who was wearing what, or whether the men would still be milling about the clearance section of J. Crew while the rest of us sat down to the rehearsal dinner.
In the end, it worked out fine. And by that I mean the bridesmaids wore neutral colors and the groomsmen showed up in a dazzling array of mismatched attire that would have knocked their own socks off, had any of them remembered to wear socks.
The fudge pies did get made that day, believe it or not. We served them alongside banana cream pies, which I wrote about here. This pie is amazing. Truly–it’s one of my favorite finds of 2014. It’s like a gooey brownie crossed with dark chocolate pudding inside a tender crust. You can make the batter quickly in one bowl without a stand mixer. It melts in your mouth.
2/3 c. evaporated milk
6 oz. semisweet chocolate chips
2 Tbsp. butter
1 c. sugar
2 Tbsp. flour
2 tsp. vanilla
3/4 tsp. kosher salt (use about half this amount if you only have regular salt)
1 c. chopped pecans (optional)
1 unbaked, deep dish pie shell, thawed
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.
Melt the evaporated milk, chocolate chips and butter together in a saucepan or in the microwave. Stir the mixture until it’s smooth.
Whisk the sugar and the flour into the chocolate mixture. Then whisk in the eggs, vanilla, salt and pecans (if using).
Pour the mixture into the pie shell and bake for 35-40 minutes, until the top of the pie isn’t jiggly and it has set. Let it cool for at least 10 minutes before eating, or chill in the refrigerator and serve cold.