Another home restaurant I visited, part of a short series of one-off themes, was the Marie-Antoinette dinner at a third floor flat in Hackney, East London. It took a while to find the place, several laps around the one way system, before slipping through a tiny opening into a car park, the difficulty adding to the adventure. Stumbling through the dark we came across another guest, equally clueless as to which flat in the modern 1980s block.
“it’s enough work dressing up as Marie-Antoinette!”.
She had a professional chef cooking in their little ‘cuisine Americaine’ in an alcove off the living room.
“He’s the help” dismissively waved the hostess in character.
“Oh he’s gone down the pub” she said cheerily in her Irish accent “this isn’t his sort of thing”.
Looking around the flat “How long did it take you to make it look like this?”.
“All day. And weeks to find the stuff and the costumes. We were glad you were late as we weren’t ready yet” replied Emily.