We expected and got a rather untraditional ceremony, MCed
by a tall young recent theology grad dressed up sort of like
the Cat in the Hat. Untraditional? It was more like open
mike night. Everyone seemed to love it, even the bride's
very traditional Japanese family, including some who had
flown across the big water for the occasion.

The reception was held in the same spot. Pretty fancy
passed hors d'oeuvres, good booze, a load of laughs,
partially fueled by incredulousness at the variety of
variety under this roof this day.

House wines included the not too sweet and fairly pleasant
Ghost Pines Merlot 09 (half Napa, half Sonoma) and a Navarro
Pinot Noir 05 (Mendocino) that was okay but for being
really, really oaky. The spirits were of a high order, so I
stuck to Maker's mostly, though there was a kickass rum,
whose name I've forgotten, and a bottle of Johnny Blue.

letiole and I stayed for most of the festivities, but when I
looked as though I was about to jet lag out, she bundled me
back into the car and dropped me off at the hotel, where a
good long coma was in order.

The family hotel, the airport Westin, had looked nice, but I
saved myself $40 by staying at the Hampton a couple blocks
away. It was perfectly decent but not the Westin. The bed
was fine, which was just about all I needed.
--
The alarm was functional, so I went down and checked out
breakfast: smoked sausage of the Hillshire variety;
scrambled eggs probably from powder, but not bad for that,
with ham and cheese; and salty squishy lurid orange home
fries. For a special treat, airline fruit cup: pretty good
orange segments, slightly over the hill pineapple, and
orange and green melonlike substances of great crunchiness
and little flavor. Correction: coach class fruit cup.

I walked down to the Westin to get a ride with the groom's
brother and folks-in-law; better than public trans, which
I'd originally planned on and would have taken another hour.

In what seemed like no time flat, we were at the Beach Chalet -
even with a wrong turn we beat the Mapquest and the MSST time
estimates; as we were among the first, and everyone who was
there that early was family, I got to sit at the head table.

Gradually the tables filled up - the Japanese relatives at
the far table in the sunshine (I'm not sure if this was good
or not), the nonrelative friends at the middle one.

The Chalet is a working testimonial to the social welfare
philosophy of the Roosevelt administration: a pleasure
palace for the multitudes built by the best out-of-work
1930s craftsmen federal money could buy. Sculptors, masons,
murallists, all in concert creating a work for all to
enjoy. At a price, of course - the restaurant that now
occupies the second floor, commanding wonderful views out
over the ocean, is nowhere near cheap. Some interesting
stuff, though when I'd been here before it was the single
malt listing (some rare ones at relatively merciful prices)
that captured my attention. Today, we had our own little
commemorative dejeuner fixe menu - composed of stuff that
could be made ahead or quickly, suitable for serving a
ravenous horde of 30 at prime brunch hour.

We started off with a fruit plate that reminded me of
the airline appetizer, only more so. The fruit looked
unripe and hard but was in fact delicious - I don't know
how they did that - whereas in the normal marketplace the
aim is the opposite. Following this, a choice of a burger,
Dungeness crab benedict, fish and chips, or something else
I forget. The burger looked big and good. The fish and
chips, done in a puffy beer batter, was a sizable serving
of pretty fresh Pacific cod with nicely done fries. I of
course went with the crab thing, which would have been
okay but for them paying mere lip service to crabbiness
with a few shreds of undistinguished seafood filaments
hidden by the eggs, which in my case looked like large
rubber erasers but in fact were nicely cooked.

The house signature chocolate castle is less enthralling
in person than it is on the menu: it's a slice of quite
ordinary, dryish though pleasant cake that had been stood
up on its end flanked by a pair of brown cookies cut in the
shape of turrets. There was a cheesecake option as well
that looked pretty good.

After a long linger and the obligatory photos the party
broke up, planning to reconvene in the evening.