Looking for part two? Find it here!
Here it is: the long awaited post on The French Laundry. We found out that our friends and family had no patience for the belatedness of this post--and for that we apologize. We have been very busy making up songs about pugs and working on our ukulele duet for the wedding. Also, watching football and The Real Housewives (Jason’s thoughts--thanks a lot Graham Gano; Yvonne’s thoughts--when can I travel to Glamis and go four-wheeling?).
Well, going to The French Laundry turned out to be a bit of a saga, so let’s start at the beginning.
March 2016--We find out we are going to San Francisco and desire a visit to TFL. We do research and see that you cannot get reservations until 30 days out. We wait. We stalk Thomas Keller on Instagram.
July 16, 2016--At exactly 30 days out, we set alarms on our phones to begin calling TFL right when they open (11:00 am PST, 2:00 EST). We have no luck at all getting through on the phone lines--it is busy all day long. We feel defeated. We refresh OpenTable. We stress eat.
July 17, 2016--We put on our Google hats and figure out that, as with most things in life, rich people do things differently (#liberalelite #newyorkvalues). Proud owners of an American Express Black Card can use their personal concierge service to snag a reservation at TFL for special events. Jason’s Aunt Lynn has a Black Card, and we have a special event (our engagement--it is still special to us almost one year out, ya know? Sure. Whatever it takes). So, we call Aunt Lynn and ever so sweetly ask her to help us out. She ever so sweetly agrees.
July 31, 2016--Aunt Lynn calls Jason and tells him not to embarrass her by failing to wear a suit or by being late. THIS IS FORESHADOWING.
August 12, 2016--We leave on a jet plane for San Fran with Hamiltoe (see previous post for more Hamiltoe backstory). We feel majorly excited for all the food we are going to eat, but I still overeat on the plane, because I love plane snacks and being on a plane makes me starving. It is my body’s primordial sense that I am going on a journey and will need great amounts of fuel to sustain me. On my past life I traveled the Oregon Trail (I didn’t make it the whole way; I broke 73 wagon wheels and got dysentery). I eat a bag of goldenberries, three servings of Goldfish, and two (okay, three) cookies. We land and go get dinner in Chinatown. Oh, and a pre-dinner bubble tea. I feel very full. Hamiltoe discovers she does not like bubble tea. We feel she is mistaken in this belief.
August 15, 2016--We have eaten a lot of things. Now we all feel full. I have felt full since Friday. We are talking the kind of overeating where you wake up still full and disgusted with yourself. We eat a lot this day anyway, because the food is really, really good everywhere you go and what if we never come back here or taste these things again? We walk our way right into the hottest restaurant in San Fran right now, State Bird Provisions. No reservation, no wait. We are so freaking thrilled and we eat our faces off some more.
August 16, 2016 9:00 am--To prepare for our journey to Napa in the evening, I go and get our rental car and take it on a Dangerous Hike Alone (my hobby-copyright pending). I drove in CA and, for the first time, terrorized those on the West Coast with my driving skills. Marin County is beautiful and I drive up a mountain and go above clouds. I think that I would like to never leave here and the temperature is 65 degrees. Jason and Hamiltoe are enjoying the final day of the Xero Conference. They network and get swag. We plan to convene at 4:30.
August 16, 2016 4:30--We all meet on time and are ready to leave by 5:00, our agreed upon time. We feel pretty great about ourselves. We are fancy and going to a fancy place and we are actually not as full as usual because we finally didn’t eat four meals before dinner in preparation for this night. We are leaving at 5:00 for a 7:00 reservation, and Google Maps says it will take an hour and thirty minutes to get to Napa from our AirBnB in San Fran. We are on time. We are responsible.
August 16, 2016 4:45--We are in gridlock traffic. Not the kind we are familiar with in Charlotte, where you can occasionally move the car forward in the direction of the place at which you wish to arrive. The car is not moving. It does not move for 30 minutes. I start freaking out pretty hardcore, and Hamiltoe gets to witness Freak Out Yvonne. I try to save her for family and Jason, but she comes out.
August 16, 2016 5:45--We are still in downtown San Fran. Lorin and I have taken numerous milligrams of xanax and I have been ordered to do a crossword to calm down and stop bothering the other passengers (namely, Jason and Hamiltoe).
August 16, 2016 6:00--We are still in *&%^!@# downtown San Fran. The possibility of missing the 7:00 reservation seems very real. We decide that someone should call. We decided the person should be Hamiltoe (Hamiltoe had nothing to do with this decision).
August 16, 2016 6:15--We are actually moving on the highway headed to Napa, but the reservation is in 45 minutes and we are still pretty much an hour and a half away because we managed to drive one and a half miles in an hour and fifteen minutes. Hamiltoe calls and we find out she has the nicest speaking voice of all time. She is a champ. She explains our predicament, and the Powers That Be are very accommodating. “Absolutely, so will you be here around 7:15, then?” “Um. Actually closer to 8:00.” Note that not even this ridiculously late hour is the true time we will get there. They say “See you soon.”
August 16, 2016 6:23--Spirits are lifted and traffic is still moving! The Xanax is kicking in hard! We sing along to the Backstreet Boys and Adele. Star 101.3 is the bomb. We bond.
August 16, 2016 8:25--We arrive at The French Laundry. The building is a quaint house located on a residential street with other houses. The kitchen is an adjacent house, and you can see the chefs working as you walk in the door. No one makes us feel weird about being the rudest people on the planet, but we are seated upstairs right next to the bathrooms. We are not sure if this was always our slated location, but we are grateful to be sitting where we imagine famous butts have sat. Seriously. Think about it. My butt might have sat where Obama or Barbra Streisand's butt sat. WHOA.
To be Continued...
Read part two here!
Frankie’s Notes: When you are late all the time, but then ONE time you try REALLY hard not to be late but are still late = major life fail; We are wondering what else Aunt Lynn’s Black Card can do; We really bonded with Hamiltoe over prescription drugs and pop music; Crosswords are proven to ease anxiety by 41%; Having a good phone voice like Hamiltoe is my life goal; Ollie’s favorite famous butt is Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s.