My Super Sweet Weekend

So much for the Wedding Diet that consists of no saturated fats and "bad" carbs. I suppose, though, that I am all too happy to throw my diet plans to the wind for cake. And I don't mean any cake. I mean free cake. Free wedding cake. Free wedding cake that makes you feel special for 30 minutes of Bride and Groom Attention.

Bride and Groom Attention (BGA) is a term I have internally coined (so, it only exists in my head until right this minute when all 2 of my readers now know BGA) that describes the exclusive attention Brides and/or Grooms receive upon any wedding related event or conversation. This means, for example, that it could be as obvious as a vendor meeting where the sole purpose is to talk about us and our wedding and how nothing else matters since it is, after all, the most important day of our lives. BGA can also happen out of the blue in a totally non-wedding-related setting such as a conversation with strangers:

Stranger in line at the pharmacy with me: Have you been waiting long?
Me: No, but I need to get home because my fiance is waiting for me.
Stranger: FIANCE?! Oh you're getting married! Where? When? What are your colors? Have you bought your dress? When did you start dating? How did you meet? Did you know he'd be the one right away? When do you plan to have children? Wow, you look so young to be getting married!
Me: Uh. They just called your name.

AND SCENE.

Ok, I should be a flippin' screenwriter. Strike not! I seriously made that whole thing up off the top of my head. That was like some holy Holden Caulfield action. And while I seriously, truly haven't had this conversation with a stranger in line at the drugstore pharmacy, I have had extremely similar chats with extremely similar strangers who are extremely and strangely interested in my upcoming nuptials. That, my friends, is some hard core BGA.

I guess there is just something about being a Bride or a Groom (yes, I know they're not proper nouns, but I feel they deserve capitalization since they relate to the acronym of BGA as derivatives) that solicits all kinds of obvious attention from those involved in the wedding (such as vendors) and not-so-obvious attention from people who get turned on about anything having to do with a wedding.

But I digress.

Cake tasting is high up there with the ultimate BGA. For some reason, this dessert, this frilly confection that gets displayed and then viciously cut into, is supposed to create a whole sub-universe that is a direct reflection of our style, our relationship, and our future.

Oy. Freakin. Vey.

Me? Hey, I just like carbs and calories and that's what wedding cake, okay, any cake, is to me. I just want the thing to taste good and look good and with my basic taste for sweets and my appreciation for simple design, it's not going to take Cynthia Weinstock and all of her cronies to produce this concept. My ambivalence about this sugary focal point of our reception doesn't prevent me from being enthusiastic about these tastings we get to savor, however. After all, cake tastings are privileges that Brides and Grooms get to enjoy in which no one else in the human population can participate (that is, ethically. I suppose any old Jane and Joe could walk into a bakery with a pipecleaner ring on a finger and feel that they are entitled to free cake). I'm all about the bridal experience, and you better believe that my cheap ass is going to enjoy some complimentary cock (that's Frahnk speak for "cake" as spoken in the remake of "Father of the Bride").

Well, the search for our cake began on Friday night at the world renowned Breadbasket (and by world, I mean Ventura County). I'm no cake critic and I'm not really intending to be one, so I'm not going to go into detail. All I can is, "Yeah. Okay. It's cake." I don't know, maybe it was hyped up too much for me. Nothing I tasted was phenomenal and I was kind of disappointed in the way the four slices were presented in that they didn't correspond with any of the options I would pick from the menu they gave us. Plus, they didn't have marble cake and they weren't really willing to accommodate our wants. I'd say "needs," but really, who needs marble sprinkled with chocolate chips, laced with chocolate ganache? We're not a third world country. We're a Bride and Groom and we're not getting the kind of BGA we'd expect from Breadbasket, but I'm not about to use the word "needs." If I'm needing anything about this wedding, I have some seriously effed up priorities in life. Wedding perks and enjoyments are gravy on in the grand scheme of things. Okay, so I just had a Ghandi moment, but all I'm trying to say is that Breadbasket didn't really jive with our simple taste, so... thanks for the half-assed BGA and we're moving on.

Saturday morning took us to TC Bakery in Newbury Park. I walked up thinking I wouldn't be impressed. Their website was shady. They get no press. They're located in an industrial park near Amgen. But by golly, this cake was delish! No photos at this one, but it wouldn't have mattered unless I would be able to capture the happy faces on each and every one of our taste buds. And my camera isn't that cool. So anyway, big thumbs up for taste, service, flexibility and the ultimate "as you wish" BGA treatment. I think we had our WOW moment. Don't judge a book by its cover, kids.

We rested our tummies with a bathroom break and a browse-through at Borders in Thousand Oaks before heading off to the adorably decorated For Heaven's Cakes on Thousand Oaks Blvd. Walking into For Heaven's Cakes is like walking into every little girl's dream Barbie mansion. Perfect little pink benches with perfect little pink walls and perfect little pink framed artwork. Above us hangs a dainty chandelier that makes any bride decked out in a Swarovski drizzled gown melt into a puddle (I am not such a bride, but I still think that itty bitty light fixtures that dangle crystals are cute). Ok, so clearly, this place is all about presentation and connecting with the brides.

And ya know what? The cake was pretty good too. Not as tasty as TC Bakery, but ya know, good. Here's where I tisk tisk tisk. No quote. All the other bakeries are giving me a price at the end and ya know, that kinda matters. At For Heaven's Cakes, they go to the designer, tell them what I want, and then call me in a week with a number. Okay, fine, but I am not asking for the Wrigely Building to be replicated on my cake. I want a couple dots. Some squiggles. Ya know? Basic. Don't tell me you don't know a ballpark number for a 3 tiered stacked cake with a sheet cake in the back (shhhh) for a 170 people. Seriously, don't. Ah, but you did. That annoys me. Based on the presentation and the 5-paragraph essays that preceded each forkful, I know this dessert isn't going to compete with the price point of a McDonald's apple pie. So, I can pretty much assume that we won't be going with this joint, but hey, it was "part of the bridal experience."

So with three bakeries down and about three more to go, we're definitely getting to know the cake tasting process and learning what we want and don't want in and on our tower of buttercream goodness. Price is a #1 factor, then the ability to execute my design, followed by whatever B wants to stick in it. I figured letting him choose what the cake tastes like would be a good strategy to ensure our marriage lasts a lifetime.

After all, I believe in the C word.

Compromise.

B, on the other hand, is passionate about the other C word.

Cake.