Two ceilidhs and a cheesecake
I always think that wearing an expensive outfit for several occasions – as long as there are different people at each – cuts down the cost of the outfit considerably. This is on the basis that you can divide the price by the number of times you have worn it, and therefore it is a bargain.
Three weddings in one summer, each in a different part of the country, has been an ideal example, and the Jaeger dress and jacket are back in the wardrobe having done sterling service.
I suppose summers are the time for lots of weddings, and as we go through life, we have certain times when weddings happen. We start as kids being either bored because it’s a grown up thing or annoyed that we were not chosen as a bridesmaid, or annoyed that we were chosen as a bridesmaid and we don’t like the dress. Then we have our friends’ weddings, siblings getting married and our own fantastic, best-in-the-world day, followed by the sludge of ordinary married life. Finally we get to the stage of our kids’ weddings and the remarriages of those friends who are brave enough to try it all again having given up on the first attempt. 2010 saw my eldest niece married on a sunny day on the Isle of Arran in the Clyde estuary, my old friend Frannie tie the knot in Gloucestershire, and my neighbour’s son wed in the Highlands. All three weddings have been splendid, and the memories are in the making.
I had heard myself at the family Christmas party assuring Hazel that it would be my pleasure to provide a tower of cupcakes for the wedding on Arran in May. I then set about setting up a series of randomized controlled trials on cupcake recipes, as I had realised that I would be at a course in England for the week leading up to the wedding, and would therefore have to bake and decorate the cakes in advance and freeze them.
The classic cupcake is not good at freezing. It seizes up and when defrosted shows all the characteristics of a small brick. My neighbours, Chris and Sue, were excellent cupcake testers (they may never want to see another cupcake as long as they live…) and eventually we concluded that to allow storage, the mixture has to have some sort of fruit included. The final 72 cupcakes included banana and choc chip with chocolate icing, carrot with lemon icing, lemon with lemon icing, caramel with caramel icing, and strawberry with strawberry jam inserted into the final cake and decorated with vanilla icing and fresh strawberries. We piled them into flat storage boxes and stored them in my cousin’s freezer before he transported the consignment to Arran. I had a nerve-wracking journey from Cranfield University to Luton Airport, an inevitable late flight, a very expensive taxi journey from Glasgow Airport to Ardrossan (either that or miss the ferry!) and a crowded Friday night boat with half the population of Glasgow descending on the island for the other three weddings taking place on the same weekend.
Hazel had found some lovely antique cake stands, and the cupcakes were decorated with Love Hearts (only the ones saying nice things, like “I’m yours” and “Be mine”), Parma Violets, jelly beans, Smarties and other good old fashioned sweeties. They looked fantastic, and were removed by the guests like snow off a dyke.
The ceilidh band was from Glasgow, and had a mixture of Scottish, Jazz and rock, and the village hall was decorated to a fantastic standard. Fireworks on the beach, orchestrated by the bride’s brother and his partner were undiminished by the late rain, and the backdrop of the sea was splendid.
The Gloucestershire wedding posed the problem of what do you get a couple who have done it all before, have a substantial house each, and really don’t need another toaster. I had the brilliant idea of buying them a tree, and after a long look at every tree in the garden centre in Cambridge, chose a James Grieve apple. Frannie is delighted. She has always been an apple-muncher, and only had the problem of whether to plant it in Gloucestershire or Dorset. She would have gotten an oak, but it was too big for the car, and I think the apple was a better idea anyway. The fact that it was mistaken for the decorations during the ceremony was by the way.
The reception was lovely, with the wedding breakfast the traditional formal meal, but with food chosen by the bride and groom as what they would like to eat if they had gone to the posh hotel for dinner. The children present were not provided with a “chidren’s menu”, but munched their way into quite sophisticated food with very little difficulty. All going to show that the myth of kids only eating fish fingers and burgers is wrong.
Instead of a wedding cake, they had put together a “cheesecake”. Literally, whole cheeses piled on top of one another, and served with the coffee. Delicious, and different.
Here however was the first difference I noticed in these weddings. Everyone sat around the allocated tables, but didn’t know one another that well, and it was difficult to get past the “have you come far?” conversations. An attempt to do so with the bride’s brother met with a rather curt rebuff, so it was easier to talk to some closer friends, so we didn’t really get a chance to speak to many others.
I had found a B&B nearby, on a farm, and discovered that another couple of guests were also staying there, so we shared transport and breakfast – a great farmhouse spread, with home-grown rhubarb and ginger compote and dogs to help.
The highland wedding took place in a tiny church on the shores of Loch Achray, in the Trossachs. The weather had started out wet and windy, and umbrellas, raincoats and other accoutrements had been loaded into the cars. The sun came out in time, and the sight of the groom in kilt and plaid, with his beautiful bride, standing against the backdrop of the loch and the mountains, was spectacular.
We had a first stop at the local hotel, where savoury and sweet canapés, champagne and tea and coffee were served while the photographs were completed outside. Then to the village hall in Brig o’Turk, decorated in a joint effort of the villagers, for the wedding breakfast. The invitation had included a slip asking that choices for the starter and main course be made when the acceptance was sent, so having a reminder of what we had chosen on the back of the placecard helped enormously.
The ceilidh was traditional, with an accordion band. Not my usual choice of music, but they knew the dancing, had the repartee, and got everyone up on the floor quickly. Scottish country dances fall into three categories – Eightsome Reel types, Strip the Willow types, and Two-step types. If you understand that, you can do any dance. Also, they are repetitive, so you just watch the first set and you are off.
Lots of cheese and the moistest wedding cake of the summer served at 10:00pm made us feel that we had been eating all day, and the rendition of Auld Lang Syne at midnight had everyone joining together.
So what do we expect of weddings now? Church or state, home or hotel, ceilidh or formal meal? Does it really matter, as long as the friendship is there, the marriage makes sense, and we have a good day, wherever we are.