His son Lorenz was turning twenty-five. The night before, Lorenz had partied into the wee hours with his huge circle of friends at a disco whose proprietor he knew from his DJ days, but he wanted to spend Sunday afternoon with his family to celebrate his birthday in a calmer setting. Cosima’s mother had come from Bad Homburg, Oliver’s parents and Quentin arrived with his three daughters—Marie-Louise couldn’t get away from her Schlosshotel—and the mother of Lorenz’s girlfriend Thordis, the veterinarian Inka Hansen, completed the guest list. They were all seated around the dining room table, with its white place settings and decorations in lovely autumn colors. Chef St. Clair had given his best cook, Rosalie, the day off, so from early morning she was to be found, with red cheeks and on the verge of a nervous breakdown, dashing about in the kitchen, which she had banned everyone from entering. The result was fantastic. The roast goose liver with almond crème and lemon followed a watercress mousse soup with marinated shellfish and quail eggs.
