Thursday, Mar. 15, 2007

Wedding bells, duct tape and wine

By Teri Citterman

Well, it happened. This winter, the German popped the question, and we're tying the knot in May.

So today I find myself deep in the trenches of the foreboding world of weddings and brides: caterers and florists and photographers, oh my! It's utter madness.

As a little girl, I dreamed of my fairy tale wedding. But now in my 30-somethings, a practical fantasy makes more sense, and simple is the new black.

I read in one of those $5 bride magazines that "glamour" is this year's trend, and I would agree. If you're a drag queen. If a puffy meringue dress isn't in your future, well ... options are few.

I was in Portland trying on dresses, which is a process all its own. My friend Amanda accompanied me and properly told the truth when something I loved looked atrocious. The challenge for some of us who wore training bras at age 5 is staying within the confines of the dress. Some of the slinkier options require double-sided tape, duct tape and potentially glue. In other words, a train wreck is waiting to happen.

The fear that some part of me might come bubbling out is causing me to look rather seriously at the dresses full of bullet-proof boning.

My fear of a wardrobe malfunction is deep-seated because it happened to a friend. While dancing on her luxurious wedding day, guests became rather intimate with the bride. I'm told it was a sight well worth the price of admission.

Over a glass of Airlie Winery's 2004 Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley, I contemplated what is truly a lifesaver when you simply pop out on your wedding day (or any day)? This wine said it all. It starts out a little tight. But with some time and energy, it begins to relax and open up - maybe even chill out to some degree. Rich cherry mingles with mixed berry, creating a juicy ripe nectar, sure to be a place to turn after you've scooped yourself up and packed it back in - though, at that point, I'd recommend the whole bottle.

Since we're getting married in the cellar of a winery, we thought a DJ would be a good way to go, leaving more space for dancing. I started calling around and struck up a fine enough conversation with DJ Sam. Just as we started really talking nuts and bolts, he mentioned in a very charming way that he's great at getting people up and dancing. "All it takes is a little Chicken Dance or the Electric Slide and voila!"

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hold it right there, Sam. The phone is a real disadvantage right about now because you can't see that I'm calmly counting to 10 before I hang up.

"There will be no Chicken Dance at my wedding," I declared. Or Electric Slide, Macarena or the like.

"Oh, of course," he started to catch on. "But if someone requests it - because someone always does - I have to play it," he struggled.

Confident in the tact of my guests, I suggested he could feel free to have them escorted out. He might have got it right then but needless to say, he didn't make the short list.

Might I suggest, dear Sam, a glass of Seven Hills Winery 2003 Planing Mill Red from Walla Walla? It's masculine - kind of a "pass the salami" sort of wine. Upon one nose dive into the glass, you know what you're going to get. Nothing subtle here. It's sturdy and burly and has no need to rely on anything to get people enlivened, up out of their seats.

Since this whole production began, I've been surprised by those friends and family members, etc., who insist on telling you what you HAVE to HAVE at your wedding. Not surprisingly, we are getting married at a winery, Willamette Valley Vineyards in Turner, Ore., to be exact. So you can guess what the beverage of choice will be. But I've been told by a number of folks that I really should have an open bar or at the very least offer our guests beer. My barely 21-year-old nephew is threatening to bring his own keg.

"Whatever!" I say.

Prime on the list will be a beautiful bottle of Willamette Valley Vineyards 2005 Estate Vineyard Pinot Noir. Its essence is frozen fresh strawberries with a mouthful of young Popsicle happiness. The wine seems to change with every swirl and sense, causing my wine-tasting diva friend Kate to exclaim, "Oh, I think I'm in love with P-P-P-Pinot!"

By the way, some background: Back in college, I was an intern - in fact, the first intern ever - at Willamette Valley Vineyards. At that point, the winery was simply a trailer and a tank room. Now as an adult, I just want to pinch its cheeks and say, "My how you've grown!"

Now, I have that whole name thing to deal with.

The other day, I received an e-mail from my fiancé, the German - last name Bahm - asking if I was planning to change my name.

Change? My name? Why would I do that?

I consulted friends: Amanda Weber Welch and Jan Gelman Smith. We weighed the pros and cons over a glass of Townshend Cellars NV Vortex Red from Spokane. This wine is smooth, balanced and brilliant. It's an "ease the nerves" kind of wine, almost a liquid Prozac. This wine calls you by anything you want to hear - and you're happy to follow its suggestions. I e-mailed the German, suggesting we blend our names - Bahmerman or Citterbahm - the latter being a leg up if we ever decide to invest in a well-known pastry franchise.

• Comments
• Add Comment
• Disclaimer