The menu was set, the venue ready, the brides were prepared. A wedding would soon take place on Nantucket, and The Brockhaus was in charge of the food. The beautiful couple had given me their directives for the weekend – five hors d’oeuvres immediately following the ceremony on Saturday afternoon, four side dishes to accompany the barbecue from Salt Lick that would be shipped in and served for dinner on Saturday evening, and the festivities would close with brunch on Sunday. The house, which overlooked the Atlantic Ocean, would be full of smiles and music and warmth and activity for the next three days.
Alison and Constance enter a new phase. (Photo courtesy Oliver Quillia)
I consulted with Constance and Alison about the food, and came up with an hors d’oeuvre menu that was, by turns, classic, unfussy, and, elegant. Blinis with crème fraîche and caviar; chicken liver mousse on baguette slices; butternut squash shooters; pimento cheese sandwiches; and fried curried oysters on the half shell with a cucumber-sesame oil sauce and salmon roe.
Wolfgang Puck had it on the menu at Spago, and we did it on Nantucket.
Several weeks before the wedding took place, as the number of attendees increased, I decided to hire someone to help with the prepping and cooking, and lucked out with Lucas Maylott, who lives on the island and works as a private chef. He and I worked seamlessly in the kitchen, without a hitch. Angela did her part as well, assisting with the hors d’oeuvres and keeping things running smoothly.
The brides were married, the hors d’oeuvres were passed among the guests by several servers, and we completed the side dishes for the barbecue: cole slaw, German potato salad, a mixed green salad, and crab macaroni and cheese, the latter of which – along with the pimento cheese sandwiches and the oysters – was the star of the weekend, culinarily speaking.
The barbecue from Salt Lick had traveled well, and Lucas made sure it was plated properly on the buffet table; we had brisket, and smoked turkey breast, and beef ribs. By 8 p.m. everything was gone, save the Champagne and wine and laughter.
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