#1 Russ and Madeleine Thorne

There’s so much food,” grinned one of my best men gleefully. “And it just keeps coming!”

I couldn’t argue with him. The long banqueting tables were piled high with di erent curry dishes: baltis, spiced couscous, dahls and giant u y poppadoms. They swap dishes and pass the di erent breads around, chattering away. Strangers talking, ice broken and my new wife and I shared a satis ed sidelong glance at one another; the Indian wedding breakfast is a success.

We always knew we wanted Indian food at the reception – it’s our favourite, and I’ve been to one too many weddings where the food was either anonymous or even mildly irritating. No, I don’t need any kind of jus, thanks. Even if it is made of caramelised goat. We wanted the wedding breakfast to be part of the experience, and not just a warm up to the embarrassing best men speech.

Our friends and family were positive when we told them our idea. “That sounds great, it’s really unique,” they’d say, which encouraged us that we were on the right path. However, there was one other element that would make our catering requests a little di erent: my wife-tobe was vegan. Naturally, all the food was to be vegan too.

Indian cooking is usually extremely veganfriendly, but we ran into a few di culties. Some venues fell ominously silent when we mentioned the ‘V’ word. “So you can eat just a little bit of butter, then?” No! No dairy, no meat, no animal products.

“What about bacon?” Sigh. Others wanted to help, but were hamstrung by their own rigid rules on suppliers. “We can’t nd any chickpeas. Or vegan our.” All our is vegan, we’d say. “Well, it’s still an issue.” Right. But in the end we found the perfect caterers with experience of making vegan Indian food... And from that point it was plain sailing.

Come the day, the food was terrific: dense rich black lentils with mushrooms, a light tomato dahl, two styles of curry with at least six di erent kinds of veg... They’d made their own chutneys and dips too, from the classic mango to a wickedly spicy beetroot and chilli. In the evening they brought out samosas and spinach and potato fritters to refuel the dancers. It all went without a hitch – even the vivid turmeric stains on the bride’s lap thankfully turned out to be across the napkin, not the dress (the lesson: take precautions!) Guests told us all night how great the food was. Everyone was full and happy... And there wasn’t a splash of jus in sight.

#2 John and Jade Severs
came to curry late. I was a picky eater, wimpish of palate. I cowered behind a wall of lightly salted carbohydrates. To me, spice was just the exible epithet of the ve rough girls on Top Of The Pops, naan was my mum’s mum and a chicken tikka was a novelty egg timer you could get in Smiths.

Then I met my wife. Half Malaysian, curry was as integral to her being as breathing. To her, I was a prisoner, and she bust me out with chilli. Increasing the dosage slowly, until I couldn’t get enough. I sought curry out. A born again curry lover, I stalked it. When I proposed, there really was only one thing we wanted: a wedding breakfast curry buffet.

The guests were sceptical. “You realise I don’t like curry…” whined Rich. His request for alternative sustenance was denied. “I’m a vegetarian so…” so we have a vegetarian curry Uncle Paul! “I don’t like spicy food…” well you might get hungry Grandma.

You cannot negotiate when it comes to curry. We were de nite in our insistence that it was curry or nothing. And, surprisingly, not one of the 120 guests backed out on learning of our intention, despite some reservations. It was a trust we felt obligated to reward.

So we went for a tasting at our venue. The Indian chef was on home turf. Freed from doling out burgers to the regular punters at the sports club in which we would be holding our reception, he went a little mad – in a good way. Dish after dish was delivered and devoured until we were told that we must pick three. Three? That’s like picking favourites among your children!

Alas, it is tough at the top. We went for an onion bhaji, naan and samosa starter followed by a choice of a delicious but tame chicken tikka masala, a spicy jalfrezi and a splendid veg curry. It was a compromise, of sorts, but not one that undid the integrity of the meal. We grew nervous, nonetheless. Would the queue to the bowls of delicious food consist of just two – me and Jade?

We should never have worried. As soon as the starters appeared on the tables, boastful in their aroma, the crowd was hooked. Far from sparse, the lines were jam-packed with eager faces and the generous portions were devoured with the enthusiasm of a young pup on its rst walk.

Jade, adorned in an apron to protect the expensive white lace of her dress from being splattered, grinned. I, half way through a generous sample of all three curries, grinned too. For, all around us, our guests were grinning broadly.

“The best food we’ve ever had at a wedding.” We heard it from every single person. We had not one complaint. The doubters were converted, the disciples were resolute and we looked at the empty silver trays, emptied by third helpings, and we were content. Wedding breakfast curry bu et: a unanimous success.