Sunday, 29 April 2012

By Royal Appointment

When I was a child my grandmother and I would make marzipan fruits at Christmas. I think she had made them when she was a child because somehow she knew just how to dust the peaches with icing sugar to give them a soft peachy bloom and how the addition of a clove placed just so would transform a nondescript green blob into a perfect pear. Giggling and chatting, it was the most pleasant way to spend a long winter evening. When we had exhausted all the obvious fruits we'd move onto vegetables and once we'd exhausted all the prettiest vegetables we moved onto the not so pretty ones. Marzipan potato dusted in cocoa powder anyone? And of course we'd sneak in the occasional Playdoh one as well. Petits Fours Russian Roulette. When I was at college I put together a selection of the most appealing fruits in a small perspex box and took them off to Harrods Foodhall. They placed an order for 200 boxes on the spot. I roped the whole family in and the kitchen table was covered with hundreds of the miniature, rainbow coloured fruits. My dad drove me up to Knightsbridge the week before Christmas to deliver them. By the time we were back in Bromley, Harrods had been on the phone ordering 2000 boxes. I still remember the cheque arriving, smothered with royal crests and written in italic pen.
This afternoon the fires were lit, the dogs snoozed, Ed was watching a DVD, the rain lashed at the windows, I had a couple of packs of marzipan left-over from the Christmas cake...

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