We were served by Clément himself, who surprised by my ability to speak French when surrounded by Oklahomans (except Jennifer of course, who also spoke French), called me “petite fille française” and some other nickname which I only understood to be a synonym that meant something like “the ambassador for the tourist table.” The meal was filling and beautiful prepared. We spent the rest of the afternoon digesting and trying to connect to life as is known on computers.
When we returned to a dark apartment in Le Pecq for our scheduled dinner with Madame, we found a note explaining that she was called away unexpectedly to take care of her grandkids and that dinner was ready for us in the kitchen. A frightening thought, as the last time this happened we ate only peas. There was a similar course waiting for us, but slightly better and with a great surprise. Lentils and hard boiled eggs for the entrée; a pumpkin purée, that was actually quite good, for the main course; bread and goat cheese with raisins, coconut, and mango mixed in; and get this… chocolate éclairs for dessert. Oh it was beautiful, though we had to take a few minutes to process the additional food to an already satisfied stomach before allowing ourselves the time to fully appreciate a French éclair.
The combination of a better plat principal and a heavenly dessert, totally rectify the historic Pdiddy fiasco.