Out & About #1169 | Celebrating The Birthday Buddy

Seven years ago, I attended the wedding of my Birthday Buddy's sibling. Now, on a gusty April day, it was her turn to walk down the aisle.

​Heading towards Burlington harbour, the weather was an unthinkable mix of rain, hail, snow, sun, and wind. Canadian springs tend to be unpredictable, but to experience three seasons over the span of one hour was unthinkable.

​Leading up to the occasion, my head of faded, straw-like strands were restored with a fresh round of purple dye and hydrating treatment. A dusty pink, floor-sweeping gown made its debut, as did a pair of white strappy heels that I had hurriedly purchased just two days in advance upon realizing an absence of appropriate footwear in my shoe closet.

We - or rather, I - arrived just in time for the ceremony. In the absence of on-site parking, my browsing partner missed the vow exchange, creeping in quietly towards the midway mark.

After a round of photos with the newlywed couple, we filed into the hallway, gradually making our way towards the bar and reception area. Along the corridor were hidden doors: one for the coat check and another for the bathrooms. Nearby kitchen access would facilitate delivery of hors d'oeuvres to the bar area.

We queued for the photobooth first, then meandered over for drinks. Offerings were varied and splendid, ranging from classic cocktails to craft beer to wine from Cave Springs. I pointed towards the Chardonnay without a moment's hesitation, while my browsing partner sought a virgin Margarita. 

​It was an intimate wedding, with the attendee count hovering around fifty. Most of the attendees were already long-time friends. It was amusing that I knew most of them by name or face, and them me, yet our paths hadn't crossed prior to this day.

Due to my perpetual lack of punctuality, I had rushed into the hotel to ensure arrival by the ceremony start time, consequently neglecting admiration of the hotel atmosphere. Featuring large windows, a carpeted stairwell, and a dangling, bulb-shaped chandelier, The Pearle was a truly breathtaking venue. (It was merely a shame that my browsing partner had not taken the opportunity to capture any images of my elaborate ensemble!)

​We filed into the reception hall just before 5 PM. A sea salt-speckled brownie cookie and handwritten name card welcomed each guest into their seat. 

​A second round of drink orders were taken. This time, my request lay with Cave Spring's Riesling.

​Warm bread rolls were distributed about the table to start. While I was curious about the flaky salt-topped whipped butter, my appetite gradually began to shrivel thinking about the speech I was to deliver. I had agreed to deliver the speech nine months ago (1103), but hadn't drafted anything until the few weeks leading up to the celebration. In addition to the late start, the draft had never materialized onto a tangible medium: It had commenced in my mind while showering, and was memorized through repetition before going to bed. Suffice to say, I was ready to forget components of it when presenting. (Spoiler: I did.)

The first set of speeches were delivered after conclusion of the first course, a Butternut Squash Soup served with a quenelle of maple yogurt (that tasted like sour cream), roasted kale bits, and cinnamon-sprinkled pumpkin seeds. It was a delightful starter, though I was far too anxious to ingest anything.

​Having been overcome with apprehension, I slide the soup towards my browsing partner, who eagerly depleted it. Across me, a coworker of my Birthday Buddy proceeded to douse the bowl's contents with salt and pepper, as if protesting its delicate profile.

Between my browsing partner and I, we had chosen entrées of Roasted Arctic Char and Braised Short Rib. Again, I could hardly remain in my seat. As a member of staff alerted me that my timeslot was nearing, trembling began to propagate from within. Sustenance could not be enjoyed in this state whatsoever.

Sides of roasted carrot, asparagus, and mashed potato were consistent across both entrées. The vegetables were still slightly firm, offering a vibrant, toothsome contrast against the soft mashed potato. The lily pad-esque microgreen reminded me of mains from Tbsp.
While the Braised Short Rib was incredibly tender, it was found to lean salty. On the other hand, the Arctic Char was exceptional, embodying tender flesh and crispy skin that contrasted with an herby, refreshing pomegranate salsa. ​(I did not enjoy the chopped raw onions in the salsa though.) Beyond me was why my browsing partner had removed the beautifully crisp skin - it wasn't even oily!

​Around 6:30 PM, an adorable vintage-style cake was unveiled. As opposed to a buttercream and fondant exterior, the tiered creation was a frosted ice cream cake with a brownie base and layers of Caramel Ribbon (top) and Raspberry Cheesecake ice cream.

​While in wait of the cake to be portioned by staff, guests were served a creamy Mango Sorbet with soft chunks of mango underneath. The treat was invigorating yet still indulgent, though I was not fond of the herbs used to marinate the mango - mint? fennel? rosemary? The precise constituent(s) of the marinade were unknown.

Soon, the dance floor opened. I changed into comparatively comfier clothes to enable movement.

​I joined the long-time friends of my Birthday Buddy in their K-Pop-rooted routines, ecstatic to be amongst fellow dance enthusiasts.

​While I grew warm during several parts, the venue was well-ventilated. Stepping out to the bar for brief moments allowed for acquisition of desserts and moments of respite. My browsing partner attempted to deplete the contents of my plate while I stepped aside to dance, however I managed to secure a few bites of each baked treat before they vanished. The brownie was surprisingly tasty, and not that sweet! Originally deterred by the dusting of icing sugar, I quickly realized that the square was nowhere as cloying as one would assume. I skipped the Chocolate Chip Cookie and oatmeal square due to satiation, though relished in the warm spices of the Ginger Molasses Cookie.

A subsequent platter of fruit was obtained around 10 PM. The party would continue till midnight, even though most guests had began to slowly take their leave.

By midnight, I had exchanged conversations with nearly every member of the group. Exhaustion gradually caught up with us, leading to conversations on the dance floor instead of high-intensity hair whipping and jumping. By the end of the night, we were tired but happy; I had also somehow committed to badminton plans in two weeks without realizing.

​We had collectively gathered to celebrate my Birthday Buddy on starting a new chapter in her life. Dancing aside, the small wedding enabled contemplative exchanges, primarily those that revolved around her significance in our lives.

​A consistent message appeared in all of the speeches delivered that evening: My Birthday Buddy is a treasured person, appreciated by many and loved by even more. All eyes are on the groom to continue providing the care and support that her support network has delivered thus far, with no compromises accepted.