We arrived 40 minutes early because the groom insisted in his finest Jersey manner, “No one better be late.” So with some time to kill, we decided to kill some brain cells- off to the bar.
We ended up at a no-named lounge on the Wynn casino floor that looked like the inside of Jeannie’s bottle, forcing me to wonder why she was always trying to escape- these were nice digs. Plush pillows and sofas were spread out in deep ambers and mahogany that reminded me of Arabian Nights, if they had hired an impeccable decorator.
I was still a little queasy from the night before and couldn’t decide on what to drink until I saw the bartender’s handheld juicer for squeezing citrus. I knew my answer- Grey Goose, club and fresh lime juice. Wow! Way different than just adding a slice of lime, this citrus worked as the main component in this refreshingly, light libation that would ease me into another night of countless toasts.
The Lilac salon softened its five rows with hazy, pink light as if looking through rose colored glasses, which I guess is the best way to start a marriage. Its intimacy made me feel as if we had won front row seats to my favorite concert (and were the groupies picked to party with the band later.)
My favorite part of the evening was the food (besides all that jazz about lifelong commitment and happiness). There was no sit down dinner, no seating chart- this was Vegas baby and heavy appetizers circulated for the entirety of this reception. Like lions smelling flesh, we had unknowingly positioned ourselves next to the point where all appetizers entered. We caught every server by the arm and brusquely asked, through mouthfuls of prior offerings, what was on his tray.
Short ribs over mashed potatoes gave my belly the necessary comfort after days of poolside drinks. The parmesan risotto also stuck to my ribs and coddled me with its buttery cream. The lamb chops couldn't have made me happier than if I were Sheri Lewis and the mini cheeseburgers were like shrink-rayed versions of any succulent burger add advertising “all the fixings.” It kept coming- crab cakes, chicken with peanut sauce...and then there was dessert.
An entire station was dedicated to this “after-dine delight” (similar to feelings from “afternoon delight”) like a fantastical tea party for adults. Miniature cheesecakes were donned with bells of blueberries and crème brulee sat primly in miso soup spoons (me-so loved it!) Digesting all that this day held, the cappuccino and espresso machine whirred in the background while I resigned myself to indulged contentment and reveled in one of Vegas’s rare Wynn-win situations.
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