"Come hungry!”By the time we arrived at our lavish sampling of incredible Italian cuisine – at 12 noon, not having eaten - my fiancé and I were lashing out at each other. Fueled by low blood sugar, we had worked ourselves up into a panic about a particular point of wedding business we wanted to discuss with our poor, unsuspecting planner.
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| Crying Children Photo Series by Jill Greenberg |
The piece of wedding business that was eating at us, while we waited aggressively to eat, was the invitations. This is one thing I wish I had run by my systematic fiancé. Usually I try to spare him the details and spare myself hours of analysis over decisions I’d make on wishful whims.
I didn’t spell his name wrong or anything. Although I did have to Google him to recall his middle name – Alexander - oh yeah! Unfortunaly, I am not the best with names, even when it comes to my own fiancé.
The ‘mistake’ we’ll call it, was not actually with the invitations but with its cute little accompanying response card. The venue, an upscale Italian restaurant, had given us two options - chicken or salmon. Before hitting submit on our invitations order though, I realized there should be a vegetarian option. I did live in Los Angeles after all. Then I remembered that we not only had friends who were vegetarian, but also vegan. So, I graciously gave guests a third option. I figured I’d just talk to the restaurant and we’d work something out. I mean I was the bride. It’s funny how quickly I went from the girl-next-door type to the type-of-girl who expected to be pleased and wowed every waking minute of my engagement.
My fiancé took one look at the invitations and shook his head.
“Melanie, there is nothing vegan about Italian food.”
As the first batch of response cards trickled in, I was shocked. I didn’t realize we had so many vegan friends. I did know however that we had a lot of ‘foodie’ friends, so maybe they were just curious to see what sort of inventive meat-less/cheese-less concoction an authentic Italian restaurant could come up with.
We had been waiting until the tasting to drop this vegan bomb on the venue. I was terrified. I watched Kitchen Nightmares. I knew how chefs could get. I imagined a brawny Italian man in a white chef hat, storming out of the kitchen. He’d puff out his chest, get up in my face with his twirly mustache, and curse me out like Gordon Ramsey, “Are you fuc#ing serious?”
We sampled the appetizers before digging into the main course – the invitations. I barely remember tasting the Smoked Salmon Sfogliatina or Artichoke and Mushroom Crostini, because I was too busy chewing on my nails while I read my fiancé’s mind. The pen behind his left ear was a clear sign that he was still in work mode. I can tell when he is stressed, because he keeps a ballpoint pen handy for emergency Pro/Con lists.
After we broken the response card news - our venue coordinator, Selena - didn’t make me feel any better. She was usually overly accommodating, but it seemed I had crossed some sort of imaginary wedding planning line. I thought I’d tell her about my little hiccup and we’d all giggle and move on to dessert. Instead, her mouth dropped open and after a long, uncomfortable pause, she said, “Wow, I am surprised you would do something like that.”
She said it like that, like I had declawed her cat or something!
She thought about it for a moment though and offered a suggestion,
“We could do a stack of organic vegetables drizzled with a balsamic reduction sauce.”
“A stack of vegetables?” my fiancé grumbled while grabbing the pen from behind his ear.
He didn’t just want something, he wanted something special… something shocking… something that could forever change the face of dairy-heavy Italian cuisine. My fiancé, unlike me, loved a challenge - so he was fully on board now. If he was going to do this vegan thing, he was going to do it right. He doesn’t do ‘half-assed.’ I’ll nail things to the wall in whatever way gets them to stay – my technique varies each time. He’s one of these wall-whisperers, tip-tapping around to find a stud, he has his system and sticks to it.
My fiancé started spinning his pen around on our tasting table. Faster and faster. Selena took note. She never dared mention those stacked veggies with balsamic reduction sauce again.Throughout the remainder of our engagement my fiancé stayed on pins and needles, wondering if the restaurant would come through with a suitable vegan creation. I, on the other hand, moved on… to freaking out about my hair.
As expected, tension ran fairly high the week before the wedding - for both my fiancé and me.
Things seem to always work out for the best though. Il Cielo of Beverly Hills pushed itself to create one incredibly delectable vegan risotto dish that got RAVE reviews. Our guests seemed to really appreciate being treated with such sensitivity. And most importantly, my hair looked GREAT.
