Our friend John’s parents, like my husband Danny’s, fled Europe in the late 1930s as the Nazi horror was unfolding. John’s folks went first to Shanghai, and then on to the States, where a few months later John was born. (“I was made in China.” he’ll tell you.)
During that same torturous time Danny’s parents sailed to South America and settled in Bolivia where Danny was born, before they too immigrated to the States.
Both families adjusted to their new American lives, and sent their sons to the local schools. But of course at home they kept many of their European tastes and sensibilities, and John and Danny had each been imbued with an appreciation for fine chocolate, rich pastry, and all things confectionery .
One day we were driving past a favorite candy shop when Danny stopped the car, went in, and soon came out with two boxes. “I bought some marzipan for us and some for John too, I know he loves it.” Danny said.
From the car I called John intending to say we had something for him and would stop by. His wife Midge answered, said John was out, but he’d come over to our house later as by chance he had something for Danny.
An hour later our doorbell rang. There was John, and under his arm – a box of marzipan.
– Dana Susan Lehrman
Your stories are as sweet as any confectionery. 💖
Thank you sweet Cuz!
Let me guess, Elk Candy Shop?
Good guess Rena, and the right answer if this had happened in NY before Elk closed.
But this was last summer in Connecticut where luckily we found a local shop for our marzipan fix!
Growing up in the Bronx, I remember Shipman’s on the Concourse had marzipan coated in dark chocolate.
Thanx for the memories Glenn, but altho a Bronx girl, I don’t remember Shipman’s yet I’m sure you had the Kitchen Sink at Jahn’s and banana splits at Krum’s!
Your writing is certainly a breath of fresh air! I also love marzipan- do you go to Mondel on Broadway near Columbia? That has always been our favorite.
Thanx Rachelle!
I don’t know Mondel, but we’re overdue for a get-together, let’s meet and go together!
How goes the line, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.” As it sweetly does in this wonderful story.
Thanx Mike, and so good to hear from sweet friends like you!
I was born in Brooklyn, as were my parents, and marzipan is my very favorite candy also!
Good Karen, and actually I can’t imagine anyone who doesn’t love it!
Sweet story! O Henry would be proud.
My Italian father not only cultivated my taste for marzipan but for chestnut sweets as well.
Thanx Polly, and a sweet memory of your Italian papa!