How my parents were brought together by jam

My German father would visit my mother’s college room with dough cake and offer it in marriage to her preserve. Little did he know she preferred the strictures of rationing to such sensuous excessMy mother was not much of a sensualist. But what amazed me was the effort she expended to thwart my father’s sensuality. She hated spending time on cooking, but she’d never, ever have saved it by buying fillet steak, or lobster, or oysters, all of which he loved.Helpless in the place w