the last supper

S'mores to the face.

IT'S THE TWO MONTH COUNTDOWN (deedle dee dee, deedle dee dee dee)!

I have mixed emotions about today. First and foremost is hunger. Well, to be more precise, it's the anticipation of hunger. But so far, on day one of my wedding diet death march, I'm feeling pretty good. I had a smoothie for breakfast, picked up some tasty sides from Elixir Juice Bar for lunch and am heading out to an event for dinner, but I peeped the menu beforehand and there's fish and salad and all that other stuff that Gwyneth Paltrow would approve of. Side note: I now know firsthand what Gwyn approves of because my sister and I sat pretty much next to her at Lafayette last Wednesday. I think she's coming to the wedding, but I told her I didn't know if we had room for Apple and Moses, and she seemed kind of upset. So, whatever.

I call this 'do, Bolt Bus hair.

I probably also feel pretty good right now because I ate my weight in macaroni and cheese last night. As I had mentioned here before, Sunday night was my "last supper" before the total annihilation of alcohol and dessert and joy from my diet. My last supper didn't have twelve apostles because that's too many people to share my tuna tartare with, but I did bring my favorite Jew (prophet status TBD), who is also known as Mike. Mike is not engaging in a wedding diet slim down, but he was more than happy to accompany me on my binge o'carbs last night at Delicatessen. This place is marketed as international comfort food; you cannot order something undelicious.

FUCK YES.

But the piece de la resistance is, of course, their ample selection of mac and cheese. Delicatessen also owns Macbar, which is an adorable sliver of a restaurant next door (it's actually elbow-macaroni shaped) and you can order anything from their menu while seated in the larger space. While I've never met a cheese-filled dish I couldn't make out with, last night I went for one of my personal favorites, the Mac Quack. Duck confit, fontina, caramelized onions and about an inch-thick draping of bubbly cheese. Dreams are made of lesser substances, my friends. Being the horrid foodie that I am, I have been fantasizing about this dinner for weeks and am very pleased that it even surpassed my expectations.

After scraping every last crispy piece of pasta from the edges of my skillet, we topped off the evening with a deconstructed s'mores dessert, because, marshmallow. The best part? At the end of our meal, the very handsome and thoughtful staff presented me with a wedding congratulations card. These kids go above and beyond.

The sweetest.

I know where I'll be headed post-July 13th. Mac Lobsta, wait for me...

PS: HUGE thanks to Shelby for curating everything behind the scenes. You are a superstar!