New York has Fashion Week. College campuses have Greek Week. Hollywood has Oscar Week and Emmy Week. Here at The Delicious Life, there is that much anticipated seven days filled with itty bitty chiffon bows, tulle, shimmer glimmer papier-maché floral fantasy, tangerine taffeta and orange-peach organza...It’s Wedding Week!
Yes, stargazers, we obligingly shrieked through the proposal. We smiled through the engagement. We even survived the first meeting of the parents. Now, what everyone has been awaiting for months on the edge of their g*ddamn garters. Seven glorious days and nights, maybe even more if we’re lucky, of pure white wedding preparation wonderment, all leading up to that final moment. Building up to that breathless climax . That incredible, ecstatic peak when I..Oh! Ohmigod! I...Yes!
I get to eat.
But up until then, up until the last guests set out on their merry way from the rose-petal strewn, white-tableclothed, floating votive candled reception, and I finlly get to shimmy out of that ridiculous dress, I am not eating. My body is simply subsisting on...saeng doo boo. Cold, raw tofu.
I love tofu in any format. I love saeng doo boo, rolled up in a piece of nori, and dipped in soysauce mixed with a little sriracha for a spicy kick. But let me tell you, even a New York Strip grilled bloody rare and dripping with blue cheese butter three times a day, every day, for a week can start to taste like...Salisbury steak.
Let the countdown begin. *sigh*