The rest of the afternoon was a blur of laundry and unpacking, immediately succeeded by a trip to Kleinburg for the purpose of attending feedthebear's wedding reception.
Upon each table was a floral centrepiece of pale pink and white flowers. Surrounding the slightly shriveled petals were jugs of water and sparkling water, chilled white and red wine, and condiments.
Bread rolls were served amidst the first game: while placed onto our table in a napkin-lined wire basket, the mounds were not warm. Stale and dry in appearance, I cannot comment further as I did not try any of these varieties for the sake of saving stomach space.
In a general sense, the soup was a great palate cleanser for the items to come. On the other hand, this also drew attention its utter lack of seasoning and depth.
Dry and powdery was the roasted potato chunk. One forkful in, and I had quickly shifted my attention to the two sources of protein laid before me.
"The chicken is better." responded another.
Both of their statements were proven correct. Despite the evident pink centre of the sirloin, its interior had been ridiculously overcooked, leaving nothing but toughness where suppleness should have reined free.
In sharp contrast was a tender piece of chicken possessing a nicely-browned surface and apparent stuffing of ricotta and spinach. While largely full, I couldn't help but obtain a few more pieces of the fleshy goodness before restoring the silky pink napkin to its unused position.
Arranged right to left in order of heaviness, the narrow plate consisted of: an airy sponge cake encased within a chocolate shell, an uttterly mediocre crème brûlée, and an absolutely stifling New York Cheesecake. Perhaps our responses were owed to the delayed serving of gustatory items throughout the night, for it was observed that many left their cheesecake minis untouched.