I. Got. In.

I did it. I finally, finally did it. I got effin' reservations at effin' French Laundry. This is hardly braggadocious. In fact, it's a sad display of the obsessive steps that must be taken to play the part of a "foodie." (Did I ever mention how much that term makes my skin crawl? No? Well, don't get me started).

I won't assume you know: French Laundry is the creme-de-la-creme of fine dining in America, and its owner/chef Thomas Keller is a culinary auteur in his own right.

It's a tiny, tiny, mouse of a restaurant (only 16 tables) in Yountville which is a tiny, tiny, mouse of a town in Napa Valley. Getting reservations has grown to mythic proportions, so much so that disproportionate cyber-ink has been spilled writing about the strategies of calling and weaseling your way in. 

In a nutshell, it is recommended that you call exactly two months to the date in which you would like to visit said French Laundry (they will not take a reservations for two months + one day prior). The phone line opens at 10 a.m. I was told that I should call starting at 10 a.m. on the dot. You’d get a sense of the tribulation that is the French Laundry phone line here:

I did not believe them. Such ridiculous requirements could not still be valid. Not with so many new and excellent restaurants that continue to pop up on a daily basis in the Bay Area. I'm the type to show up about an hour after the sale begins, about two after the party hors d'oeuvres are passed. It feels shamefully eager to be there before the doors open, right? 

Who was the one to be shame-faced as I got busy signal after ear-splitting busy signal during three different attempts? That October trip to Napa? Postponed. Again and again. So, last week I finally hunkered down with my calendar, set a requested date, devised a plan, scheduled a reminder in bold red marker, and called on a Sunday morning. I even set the phone number on speed dial on my cell phone. Yeah. It was that bad.

At dial #17, six minutes after 10 in the morning, I finally got a ring tone only to be put on hold. That's okay. I was here before. I knew that in less than ten minutes time, I would actually speak to a real life person and that I would take whatever time slot was left open. 

And I did. So come November 9, I am making my way up to fork over $240 a person (yes, you heard that right and no, it's not a company expense), spend four hours over a daytime meal and rub elbows with the great Keller-ini.

Now to find reservations at the Motel 6 Vacaville.