It is. Alistair's eyebrows go up a little at the all illuminated bit; he's still smiling, though.

"Dried, candied fruit of some kind?" he suggests. "Or -- hm."

He eyes a pasty cart as they go by, gaze lingering on a row of crisp, curved cookies so thin that they're almost translucent.

"...No, maybe not. The wafers would keep, but they'd open the parcel and get a lapful of wafer dust. Much less appetizing."