There’s not much to talk about, it seems, in terms of the Chelsea / Marc wedding, except for the menu. (The overly flounced, wide-skirted dress deserves the relatively minimal comment its been given, all such dresses considered.)
So let’s all pounce (why don’t we?) on the menu, which was vegan; and which we would or would not have served, had we been throwing the reception; and which we would or would not have eaten, had we been there. Which we were not.
Most amusing to me was, in the “Style” section in this past Sunday’s New York Times, a comment from a fellow who lives in Attleboro, Mass. (I know a little about Attleboro, since I have an aunt who lived there, for a number of years, along with her second husband. I tend to get it confused with West Virginia.) Who knows how the NYT found this fellow? His name is Patrick Moore, and he remembered once showing up at a wedding reception where all the food was vegetarian, which led him to run across the street to a sandwich shop, leaving his gift in the car, along with his half-eaten sandwich, before he went in to the party.
In retrospect, Mr. Moore told the Times, “I know it’s your day, but it’s not all about you….Why have a wedding if you’re going to be like that? Just print a bumper sticker?” I, for one, am at a loss as to what such a bumper sticker might say. Perhaps it could be personalized: “I’m Patrick Moore / I didn’t eat the food at Julie and Brian’s reception.”
A number of questions arise here:
— If one is invited to a large party where the menu is vegan or vegetarian, and if the offering is hearty enough (and providing one doesn’t have any allergies to nuts or corn syrup), why should one care?
— If one is a non-paying guest at a large party where nothing on the menu is offensive to one — for dietary, ethical or ideological reasons — why should one be questioning the menu, at all?
— If one hates the food, and simply chooses not to eat it, why can’t one simply stop by a drive-thru and pick up a burger — or something else, somewhere more appropriate — on the way home?
— Meanwhile, why was Patrick Moore from Attleboro, Mass., taking his gift to the wedding reception, in the first place? (One never does that, does one? Properly, the gift is always sent ahead.) Which leads me to ask:
— Who’s he to complain?
A wedding reception is a large party like any other large party. The fact that one has been invited doesn’t mean that one will be able to, or want to, eat everything (or anything) on the buffet. One may, in fact, leave hungry, and have to fend for one’s self. (If one has any fears, grabbing a nosh ahead of time is never a bad idea. Such is always a gentleman’s fallback position.)
Chelsea and Marc’s reception was different, I know, since the guests were stuck out there in Rhinebeck, N.Y., without a handy White Castle. But I seriously doubt you and I were invited to that party, were we?
Please scan the menu and send me a copy, should you happen to have made the list, particularly if you had any dietary difficulties.