The night was headed to crazy.
In the middle of dinner Olivier Cousin toasted Claire his bride of 20-something years of marriage. There it was, their anniversary. Some pet-nat and the hours started to tick away. I went to bed. Fagged out, while the others rocked out gearing up to another 4:30am call.
How Claire got up to go to work, I'll never figure out.
Magical croissants appeared, forever the weight watcher, I allowed myself a morsel of pain au chocolat, fabulously flakey, buttery, there goes the diet. We walked past the horses and piled into the car, four in the back (ask me about that sometime, because never, never will I tell you in print what happened). We traveled to Sologne in the Touraine to see Claude Courtois at "Les Cailloux du Paradis."