I might be able to eat clafoutis every day for the rest of my life. It meets my major criteria:
Relatively healthy? Check!
Since it's unrealistic to eat it every day of my life, I just ate it every day it was IN my life. And I didn't share a bite!
My clafoutis' best aspects were the mild, eggy flavor of the custard and the sweetness of the cherries. That's about all there is to clafoutis, anyway; just a nice, thick, barely-sweet custard dotted with wonderful fruit.
One of the less tangible things I loved about this dessert was it's straightforwardness paired with how uncommon it is in America. I'd never heard of it before and I had no idea how it would be. But it was simple to make, simple to eat, and delicious. And if my grandpa had a bite, he'd simply call it pie. The fussiest thing about this dessert is its name. If I could just use just one word to describe it, it might be "rustic."
Regarding the cherry pits, they were interesting and fun but probably easier to deal with solo than they would have been in a group setting. You might skip them depending upon when and where you plan to eat your clafoutis. I spit mine right out onto my plate, which is something I'd never do in company.
One technical note: Unless your tart pan is deeper and more leakproof than mine, skip the tart ban and go straight for a pie dish!