This weekend two of our local farmer friends got married. All season, the bride had been growing spectacular flowers throughout the vegetable garden. For months, as the couple picked tomatoes, leeks, and long red beans for the farmer's market, they did so among blossoms intended for their wedding.
And then last week there was a hard frost.*
So there was no profusion of flowers for the wedding. They were terribly disappointed, of course. But as you can see, they took it in stride.
The wedding day started out pouring rain, which was ironic in a way Alanis Morrissette could never have dreamed of, since the couple have often spoken of a "forcefield" that seems to prevent atmospheric moisture from reaching their crops. But by lunchtime, the clouds had cleared. When we arrived around 1 pm, the day was already in the process of changing from "sweater weather" to "balmy." It was hard to stop remarking about the perfect weather.
We immediately went to visit Rose the llama and Bud the alpaca, who had been adorned with a knitted rose and bowtie, respectively, by the bride. Soon we noticed that every creature on the farm--dog, cat, whatever--was similarly decorated.
The wedding was Kabbalistic, involving the services of the rabbi from Athens (note the use of the definite article rather than the indefinite one) and the groom's L.A.-based Kabbala teacher. The rabbi noted that he was pretty sure we were all bearing witness to a truly historic event: the first chuppah ever erected in that rural county. It was a really interesting and beautiful service, although quite long.
Then came the potluck dinner. Some of you may be picturing an average potluck, with a table full of casseroles and cookies. This was nothing like that. It was an entire houseful of food, literally. The buffet tables began in the foyer (dips and appetizers), progressed through the kitchen (pasta), continued into the living room (main dishes and salads), and proceeded through the dining room (desserts) before parading right out the back door (beverages). Every single item was vegetarian, and dishes were labeled with little tent cards that indicated what they were, who had brought them, and whether they were vegan or contained wheat. Only a tiny minority fell under the category of "bland hippie food". Almost all of them were absolutely delicious. I was especially enamored of the moussaka, the homemade three-bean salad, the beyond-decadent carrot cake, and one of the three (three!) hummuses.
In case you were wondering, our contribution was homemade fig ice cream, made with figs that the bridal couple had supplied to us in August. It was especially good with the vegan chocolate cake.
Good luck and happiness to two of our favorite people!
* We haven't had a hard frost at 10 Signs yet. These two live about 30 minutes northeast of us on high, sandy land, and apparently that made all the difference. In fact, because most of our grower friends live a little bit north of us, we are actually the only people we know who haven't had our tomatoes wiped out.