I was standing in a catering tent outside Portland, Oregon, in mid-July, watching a bride and groom finish their first dance to a slow, aching cover of “At Last.” The song hit its final note, the guests clapped, and then the servers appeared with trays of miniature tacos seasoned with chipotle and lime. The timing…

I was standing in a rented commercial kitchen in Queens three days before the wedding, staring at a 40-quart stockpot that still had the price tag on its handle, and it occurred to me that I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into. The bride, Mei Ling, was on the phone with her aunt…