Baby vs. cake

I woke up with a definite food hangover the morning after the wedding. I picked at my cup of fruit and ignored the Danish in an attempt to cancel out the 80 slices of cake from the night before.


There was no time for a run Saturday morning since I woke up at 9 and we had to be at the morning-after brunch by 10. I was still full, and my plan was to eat nothing.


I admired my dad’s bagel with cream cheese, cucumber, and tomato:


And then I gave in. After the wedding the night before, my sisters and I had spearheaded a movement to pack up all the extra cocktail hour appetizers and wedding cake. The scene from the reception bar 12 hours earlier:


When the highlights of the previous night appeared at the brunch, I could not resist the artichokes, the marinated mushrooms, and the strawberry garnish.


Oh right, and a sliver of wheat bagel with gorgonzola:


Ummmm, and 1/4 blueberry bagel:


(And lots of cubes of cheese that leapt into my mouth too fast for the camera!)

I also kidnapped baby Jack again … until his dad found me out and demanded that I step away from the child:

Baby Cake

I had a hard time letting go …


But I consoled myself with the box of cake that I had lovingly pieced together in one box like a giant cake puzzle the night before:


The brilliantly talented cake baker (Barb) and I discussed the beauty of the cake carnage while I downed approximately one dozen more slices:


After the brunch, my sisters and I intended to go for a run on the beach. But I started gossiping about boys, and our run turned into an hour-long walk. That was fine with me, though — quality sister time trumps exercise any day:-D

After our walk, the girls helped me pack up my stuff and haul it a few blocks up the road to their hotel. Murphy had gone back up to SF for the opening night of his new bar, so there was a Sarah-sized piece of bed calling my name at the Wayfarer Inn. The room was nestled right behind this charming patio arrangement:


Once settled in my new digs, Emily, Allie, Chris (Allie’s boyfriend), and I bounded to the lobby for the complimentary wine and cheese hour:


I looked … but I did not touch!


I made myself some English breakfast tea and settled down at the table to drool over everyone else’s cheese plates. My stomach just couldn’t take any more solids at this point!


We chatted more, Allie announced she was pregnant, I had a heart attack, and then she announced she was joking. Good times.

Shortly thereafter, Mark came to collect us in his siblingmobile for a trip to Morgan Winery for a wine tasting. Emily dove in, but I passed due to my consistently overstuffed belly.


However, when Mark resurfaced with olives, feta, and gummy bears, I found room for them:


After the tasting, we headed back into Carmel for a farewell pizza party at Lobos Lodge where my dad and stepmom were staying. I kicked things off with a collection of Andes mints the hotel left on our pillows and a green tea ginger ale:


The pizza soon arrived from Pizza My Heart to a flurry of activity:


Everyone quickly moved in for the kill.


We ordered a large Big Sur with sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, and whole garlic cloves:


And a large feta, sundried tomato, and olive:


And a medium pepperoni:


I had baby slices of the two exciting types:


And a couple more baby slices after that. Just look at this beautiful garlic:


Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm …


We capped the night with a slideshow of my millions of food pictures. It wasn’t even my idea, but everyone was fascinated:


Have you ever seen such enthusiasm over a photo of poached eggs?

Back at the Wayfarer Inn the next morning, I went for one last rejuvenating four mile run on the beach and then took part in a light breakfast to tide me over until brunch plans. The hotel had an excellent selection, right down to the make-your-own-waffles-from-scratch station:


My body was craving wholesome simplicity, so I went with an old standby:


A quarter cup of instant oats, half a banana, a spoonful of cranberry granola, apple juice, tea, and a mealy apple (that I did not eat):


This bowl tasted just like home.


And my tummy thanked me for going easy.


After breakfast, Allie and I loaded her car with our luggage and then busted out of Carmel en route to brunch in Big Sur …

If you had to choose, would you snatch babies or cakes?

8 thoughts on “Baby vs. cake

  1. verbalriot says:

    I am in awe in your ability to tell yourself to wait for food later on! And the picture of everyone else looking at the food pictures is awesome 🙂

    Hmmm…I’d snatch the baby…and then buy myself a cake later on to celebrate the fact that I have a baby.


  2. Gina Boland says:

    That pic of everyone checking our your pics is great and hilarious! And obviously I would snatch cake, not ready for the babies AT ALL!


  3. Barb Florin says:

    Sarah — TOO HILARIOUS!! I was looking for a chance to snatch that baby, but you beat me to it!!! Love the “cake carnage” — thanks for immortalizing it from start-to-finish!! My friends are enjoying your pics as well …



  4. Chris (Allie's boyfriend) says:

    Miss Sarah, I must say you looked great with that baby ALL weekend…..maybe a portend of things to come for you someday. And secondly, Allie should NOT EVEN KID about that being pregnant stuff. Sends chills up and down my spine…not because I’m opposed to children, but because I already have 3 handsome young men, and am looking forward to THEIR children sitting on my lap. not ANOTHER of my own. ok, just had to get that off my chest!!!


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