On Saturday morning I laid out all the pies on the counter at the neighbor’s house where I’d been baking for their group shot. Dave & Jen are house- and puppy-sitting, so I got to bake on the Viking range at the neighbor’s.
Around 4:00 we crammed everything into the car and headed for the place where the party was going to be – it’s called the Center for Wooden Boats, so it was kind of a little house with a big deck on a pier right on the water. The plan was for me to talk to the caterer, and figure the pie service. What I wanted to do was tier four tarts, and then cut and platter the extras on the side. That was the first snag – the caterer took one look at the extra giant apple tart on a metal baking and said, “I’m not cutting anything on a metal pan, it’ll wreck my $300 knife”. She also had not brought any extra platters for desserts. I rooted around in the little kitchen at the place, and found an OK knife, and some boards and a platter, and started tiering and cutting. Even though the head caterer was really nasty, the 2 women working for her were really sweet, and they agreed to replenish the cut tarts as long as I left the tray of the extras up on a high shelf out of the way.
Dave & Jen did a toast and a kind reaffirmation of their vows around 9:30, and after that I UN-tired the tarts and cut those too.
All went on pleasantly, until about 11:05. We were supposed to be outta there, with every glass picked up, every table cleared, and the floor mopped, by midnight. While Dave & Jen were walking her Dad to his ride home, the caterer told the DJ that this was his last song. Then she told Lea and I that we needed to clear the pie table immediately. I went back to our car to get trays, loaded up and made the first long walk to the car. I overheard the caterer arguing with one of the bartenders about clean up while I was walking. By the time I got back, the pies I had left on the table had been moved to the stairs – kind of an unused stair, up to the closed office of the place, but still. Jen said when she and Dave headed back in after sending off her dad, people were streaming out of the party – because the music had been stopped.
I hadn’t treated this like a real catering job for myself – I hadn’t brought anything for serving and carrying, and when I was setting up, I wadded up all the foil I had covered the pies with when I brought them to the place, instead of leaving it flat for wrapping leftovers. Anyways, the result was that there were about 3 uncovered trays of pie jammed into the car along with people, strings of lights and paper lanterns, clothes, cases of champagne and leftover liquor. One strawberry tart fell into the drivers’ seat and turned into a mess to cleaned up instead of something to be eaten. When we got back to Dave and Jen’s and Dave opened the trunk, apple pie fell out. But whatever was left got carried into the house, and the guests who had come over for the after party ate most of it, and the dogs got some in the morning.
I have to look at how great the tarts look on the tiers, to compensate for how bad I feel about them being such a mess at the end. I guess we can just blame the crabby caterer though, it’s all her fault, not mine.
