I can’t quite come up with a more appropriate title for this post, so I’ll get to the point.

Holy.  Fudgin’.  Shite.

Yeah, it was the most expensive meal of my life.  But when you get all pragmatic about it, in terms of dollars per minute per molecule of enjoyment, it was a bloody bargain.

The French Laundry is a bargain.   Yes, yes it is.  It has been a bargain since it opened over a decade ago, it was all through those intervening  years with visits from foodies and aspiring gastronauts, and it still is.

Now, away from the pragmatism, I’ll give you a very brief degustation with as little gushing as possible.

Rose, salmon, gougeres, caviar, panna cotta, fois gras, endive, black bass, sea urchin, scallops, Shiraz, veal tongue, pork belly, lamb roast, camembert, carrot cake, passionfruit sorbet, peanut butter chocolate mousse, citrus sorbet w/ olive oil, almond tart, mignardeses.

Yowch.  I do not feel the pain of overindulgence, nor do I feel any pain of sticker shock.  All is appropriate, all is perfection. No less than two dozen people had a hand in making my meal divine, including about a dozen in the kitchen.  They all earned it, especially my server who recommended the perfect wines and even chatted with me graciously about running and his own marathon training plans.  Unlike at a standard chain restaurant, I never got his name, so I can only say, Good luck!!!

The other thing I can say to those who balk at a several-hundred-dollar meal is this:

How much did you spend the last time you got on a plane to visit relatives for the holidays, or see a friend, or (forbid) take a business trip?  Was *that* four hours of your life enjoyable?  And how many times per year or decade do you spend that kind of money on transportation?  I rest my case.

Eat well.  Be well.  Take care.