I hate cake. Rich hates cake. So, I don't hate cake the way I hate - say - beets (I have nothing against beets for others but a personal history involving a beet smoothie - not a good idea generally - immediately followed by a three day stomach flu has sent beets to the top of my list of foods I cannot eat). But cake doesn't excite me. I don't crave cake. I don't ever decide some rainy Sunday afternoon to bake a cake. I never go to a restaurant and order cake off the dessert menu. Pie? Please and thank you! Ice cream? Good for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And happily, I married a man who feels the exact same way (about cake, not beets). So, in what must have been Decision #417 that no one under the age of 50 understood, there'd be no cake at our wedding.
Instead of cake, we opted for an ice cream sundae bar. This news received two very distinct responses that seemed to directly correlate to the age of the ears and brains hearing this news: 50+ year old ears: "An ice cream sundae bar?? Why??" (Implied: That's weird.). Under 50 year old ears: "Awesome! Yay ice cream!" Told this news at the wedding, one of our friends followed up this proclamation of joy by literally turning on his heel and jogging over to the dessert table. That was exactly the response Rich and I had hoped for. It was fun and delicious. Plus, I found adorable little letter (and ampersand) dishes to put some of our favorite toppings in, furthering personalizing the whole thing.
And I will say this, had my father been alive for our wedding, he most certainly would have supported this decision. That man loved ice cream more than anyone I have ever known.
Note: When I said above that we didn't have cake, that wasn't exactly true. There was a tiny, semi-melted, Carvel ice cream cake purchased by my wonderful maid of honor and her husband from the grocery store on their way to the islands. It was there just so we'd have something to cut (very important, apparently). And the photo to prove it.
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