Has it really been a year? 365 days ago I walked down the aisle and said “I do” to the most perfect man I can fathom. We gutted out the ceremony. (Nerve wracking!) Then we danced. We toasted. We mingled with family and friends. And we ate this cake:
After two hours of our brunch reception, Vore and I made a run for it. We didn’t stop until we got to Atlanta–two hours away. We were staying near the airport, where we would jet off to our honeymoon early the next morning. Neither of us had eaten more than a couple of bites all day and we were famished.
I was a post-wedding vision. My hair was still plastered in a now messy up-do. I had false eyelashes and sore feet. Too tired to care, Vore and I needed the easiest fix possible. We walked to a nearby sports bar and partook of what might be the worst meal I’ve eaten.
But when we got back, there was glorious wedding cake waiting. Huge slabs of it. German chocolate for the groom and vanilla butter cream for the bride. We finished every bite, and I can say with all honesty that nothing ever tasted so sweet.
After a year hogging space in the parental freezer, Mom was thrilled to send the toppers back to our house. (Dad said he didn’t know there was a flavor called “that damn cake.”)
Perhaps the frosting was a touch mealy? Maybe the bride’s cake was a smidge dry? Without the critical eye, I’m not sure we would have noticed.
Friends, that “damn cake” fared well.
If you’re married, how did your cake taste on your first anniversary? Does anyone have any great tips for storing a wedding topper? Ours was wrapped tightly in lots of Press-N-Seal and stored in a tupperware container.