The wedding, the reason we all traveled to New York in the first place, was a beautiful affair.

Brian and Kara went out of their way to make their guests comfortable. There was the cocktail hour, live music, a fabulous DJ, a bounce house, potted orchids for the centerpieces (I got to bring one home!), movies for the kids, a cotton candy machine, and dancing, dancing, and more dancing.

While the whole event was a delightful experience, the highlight of the night (for me) was Miss Becca Boo. We have never gone to a wedding of this magnitude (ie, multiple forks, wine glasses, loud music and dancing, and servers snaking through the crowd bearing platters of carrot risotto balls and skewered lumps of mozzarella, tomato and onion), and to my surprise, she was in her element.

Even before we left the house, she was starting to act the part, pretending to demurely smoke a lollipop while she waited for the rest of us to finish dressing.

At the cocktail hour, she was thrilled with the Shirley Temples.

At the dinner, she sampled my wine and champagne (and then disdainfully screwed up her nose, thankfully), sighed happily over the salad of greens, blue cheese and walnuts, and snuggled up close to Uncle Brian when he visited our table.

When it came time to dance, she hit the floor and danced for two hours. She (and her cousins and everyone else) spun and boogied and whirled, pure joy lighting her face. Eventually she noticed that people were getting more drinks over at the bar, and after asking me for permission, she went over all by her lonesome, her little head barely reaching the top of the bar, and ordered herself another Shirley Temple. (I did limit her to only one cone of cotton candy, though.) At dessert time, she approached the chef in search of a cup of decaf coffee, and the chef went out of her way to fix Miss Becca Boo up with cream and two packets of sugar.

As Mr. Handsome and I watched her, we shook our heads in amazed disbelief. This flamboyant and poised child came from us? What an absolute hoot.

As for the rest of the children: Yo-Yo and Sweetsie were more reserved, eschewing the dance floor and instead bouncing in the jump house and watching movies (Yo-Yo) and hanging out with us (Sweetsie). But the Baby Nickel had more fun than I thought he would. He gorged on goldfish, his gourmet food of choice,

simultaneously guzzled two Shirley Temples,

was my favorite dance partner (though he also sought out other partners when he got bored with me—his Aunt Rachel, baby cousin Elliot, and the whirling girl cousins), and finally—finally!—collapsed in a heap.

Other posts on Miss Becca Boo: The Smashed Finger and On Being A Late Reader.

About One Year Ago: Pink Jelly Shoes, Turtle Plants, and Fairy Rings.

Another night of not enough sleep, another cup of coffee, another Aleve, another gorgeous day. Here I am.

So how about a rundown of the week’s events thus far? In pictures? I’ve already taken right around 385 photos, most of which turned out fuzzy, but I’ve just spent the last while working in Picasa, picking out the most decent ones to share.

Just a little background and some demographics before I dive in headfirst. Mr. Handsome is the fifth of nine children, seven boys and two girls. We are all (except Brother Tom and his family and another brother-in-law) congregating at the home place for Uncle Brian’s wedding, and for The Grand Patriarch’s retirement party/69th birthday. Siblings have traveled from as far as Nevada, California, Oregon, Mississippi, and Hong Kong for the occasion. There are twenty-three grandchildren (8 boys and 15 girls) between the ages of 4 months and 14 years—only two (Uncle Tom’s two little boys) weren’t able to make it.

Other (picture-less but still note-worthy) things we’ve been doing: the sisters and sisters-in-law went out for dinner; the brothers played paintball (last night) and golf (today); clothes shopping. On the agenda for today: a park and the rehearsal dinner. Tomorrow, the wedding.

About One Year Ago: Say Cheese! (Why I don’t like taking family pictures.)

I’m in New York, surrounded by people and parties, and all I can think of is telling you about this cake I made last week.

Okay, so it’s not all I’m thinking about, but it’s there, this little remembrance of cake that keeps pushing on my brain, taking up mental energy. I’ve been wanting to write about it, but I just haven’t, and then last night I downloaded my pictures and was reminded once again about the beauty of this cake and the need to talk about it became even more pressing.

So now it’s a little after seven in the morning, and I’m sitting at the dining room table, my cup of coffee by my side. The Grand Matriarch is putting away dishes, someone is in the shower, and I hear a little voice (my niece? my daughter?) quietly humming. It’s time to talk about cake.

(Oh, wait. The Grand Matriarch just came out of her bedroom, so it must be one of my nieces clattering about in the kitchen….No, I’m still wrong: it’s The Grand Patriarch, and hey!, it’s his birthday—he shouldn’t be doing dishes… But I digress. I’m here to talk about cake, not dishes.)

This homely little cake delights me to no end. There is nothing spectacular about it, and to all appearances it is downright dowdy. But do not be deceived! This cake is sweet and moist and simple, so very, very simple.

In fact, it reminds me of torta simple, the plain cake that could be found, when we lived in Nicaragua, in any little old venta and was most often consumed alongside a cup of watery, syrupy-sweet coffee. Their version of the cake is dry and mildly sweet (nothing that any of us would be a fan of, I suspect) and when I was crafting a recipe for torta simple so that I could teach it to the community women (they were accustomed to baking with ground corn, not flour), I used a simple shortcake recipe for my springboard. That recipe became their second favorite—banana cake being the first.

This honey-whole wheat cake is the stateside version (ie. richer in cost and taste) of torta simple—a bit sweeter, more moist, and with honey, something that we didn’t have in Nicaragua.

To be honest, I am not a big fan of honey; however, I hate it when a recipe touts a particular ingredient—say sour cream or brown sugar or buttermilk—but you can’t really taste the star ingredient in the final product. In this case, the cake is worthy of its title; the honey stands out in a pleasant, homey way (and I like it!), and the whole wheat gives the cake a slightly nubbly texture without any hint of dryness. The final product is a multi-functional cake—it goes well with coffee or tea, with fruit and whipped cream, or plain, all by itself. It’s that simple.

Honey-Whole Wheat Cake
Slightly adapted from Joy the Baker.

Joy called this cake a pound cake, but since I’m of the persuasion that it’s only a pound cake if the recipe uses a pound of butter, pound of eggs, and a pound each of flour and sugar (I’m old-school like that), I was forced to drop that part of the title.

I contemplated substituting part white flour for the whole wheat, but then I didn’t, and I was so glad—the cake is plenty light even with one hundred percent whole wheat, just be sure to use whole wheat pastry flour.

Joy’s recipe called for buttermilk, but I didn’t have any on hand (or at least in an accessible part of my over-stuffed freezer), so I used a mixture of plain yogurt and milk. A soured milk (put 1-2 tablespoons of vinegar in the bottom of a one-cup measure and then fill it up the rest of the way with milk) would be fine, too, I’m sure.

2 1/4 cup whole wheat pastry flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 ½ sticks (12 tablespoons) butter
1 cup sugar
½ cup honey
2 teaspoons vanilla
3 eggs
1 cup sour milk (or buttermilk or ½ cup plain yogurt mixed with ½ cup milk)

Measure the flour, baking powder, and salt into a small bowl, stir gently, and set aside.

Cream together the butter, sugar, and honey. Add the eggs and vanilla and beat some more.

Add the dry ingredients alternately with the sour milk. Do not over-mix.

Pour the batter into a greased 9 or 10-inch springform pan (or muffin tins or loaf pans or whatever you like). Bake the cake at 350 degrees for 50-60 minutes.

About One Year Ago: Whaddaya know, it’s another kind of cake, Blueberry Coffee Cake.