My father was an avid fan of marzipan, the soft mixture of ground almonds and sugar. He would take it in most any form; cakes, cookies, pastries, or even strait up. I, myself, was a lover of the rum ball....but that is another story.
My mother had a love for marzipan as well, only her obsession was purely from an artistic stance. We would often look in confectionery stores to eye the cute little marzipan shaped fruits, vegetables, and even animals. When she would get home, my mother would try to recreate the little pieces of edible art. My father would admire them for a moment and then pop them into his mouth. My lasting memory is seeing a pink marzipan pig in my mother's china cabinet; petrified beyond being edible, but still beautiful in an artistic sort of way. I'm not sure why that one got past my dad.
When I was in London and Paris this year, I too admired the marzipan in the shop windows, and I brought my father plenty to nibble or gobble on. It was a throw back memory as he yummed them down.