Chef Keller, and all the great team members that have come from that kitchen…
I have only told this story to a handful of friends and or anyone who has had the time to hear it after asking me, “have you ever eaten at The French Laundry”. This is my first attempt at putting pen to paper, a sort of letter of gratitude and honoring the inspiration The Laundry has been to all of us, the industry as a whole.
It was a beautiful day in the Napa Valley, February 18, 2000. Yountville was quiet, beautiful and rural and still a small town in many ways. My beautiful bride and I were meeting some dear friends for a weekend getaway. I was certain another friend of mine could pull some strings to get us into the wildly popular French Laundry. TK had just launched The TFL cookbook, which was and is incredible. There was a 6 month wait list to get a reservation. Everyone and everything was talking about The French Laundry. Although I had not gotten any confirmations or even texts to tell me it had been handled, I charged forward with hope and the full confidence that we had a spot. Assuming my friend was going to deliver and my one, singular day working as a volunteer the previous year at the Masters of Food & Wine. Fetching 5 different boxes of citrus for Chef Keller to look at, frenching the bones of Colorado Mountain Lamb Racks till they looked like they never had meat attached to them previously, would certainly pay dividends, right?
Oh to be young and dumb!
Having arrived in town late, the next morning we took a stroll down to the Laundry. As we poked around, timidly wondering what would I say when I found someone who might be able to assist me and or perhaps laugh in my face… We saw a few white coats through the windows, another in the little herb garden that used to be behind the restaurant. I remember thinking… “A kitchen with windows???! As we made our way to the front door, I had figured out my spiel, or should I say plea? Upon a tremendous and sincere welcome from two lovely individuals at the front door, I barfed out a ridiculous story about my friend, his failure to confirm, my unwarranted confidence, and something about frenching citrus and juicing lamb. I am certain it took more than a small amount of effort to keep from laughing in my face. But with class and professionalism they took my information and said they would give us a call if they had something open up that evening. As I walked away, I was certain the only meal I would be eating that day was crow as I had already told our friends that we had a reservation and that their trip up from LA for this monumental dining experience was a slam dunk!
Not So Much!
As we headed back to the hotel to meet our friends, we decided that IF, there was going to be a cancellation it would most certainly be a late reservation. So we made a lunch reservation at the fabulous Bistro Jeanty. We collected our friends, strolled about town and explained the situation… Less than thrilled, but playing along, our friends joined along in the fantasy that we could perhaps get in with no reservation, or connections.
Now you have undoubtedly heard me talk about my love for Bistro Jeanty. Calling it my favorite spot in Yountville. Comfortable, tremendously classic, whilst classically relevant. The Paté and the crock of cornichons, the tomato soup baked en croute, the escargot, the Moules Frites, and Steak Tartare, the lamb tongue and potato salad and on and on. As we casually ate through basically the entire menu at Jeanty, knowing that we would have hours to burn off all the delicious, rich French food, we relaxed and dined for a few hours. As we were leaving we overheard a young woman who had obviously done her fair share of Napa Valley wine tasting, ask the hostess to call The French Laundry and cancel their reservation for the evening as they were in need of eating right now! Before the Hostess could dial the number, we were out the door and headed to the Laundry to see if they might have a spot for us now…
Although in my mind it seemed like we were back on the threshold of the Laundry in a matter of seconds. The hostess opened the door and said she had been trying to call me, as they had a cancellation and the reservation was ours if we would like it! A late Christmas Miracle in the middle of February! After the jubilation and joyus jostling that was supposed to look something like a happy dance, but was I’m sure more of a 2 bottles of wine and cornichons sloshing around, we thanked them and said what time should we be back..? In 30 minutes was her reply. With that sobering information, we said our thank yous and excused ourselves, only after confirming we would take it! We waddled back to our hotel, doing our best partially Pie eyed, power walk, got fancied up and returned with a couple of minutes to spare.
Here is where the story gets interesting, nay, dare I say, legendary! Our friends that were dining with us on this unforgettable day, own one of the largest specialty produce companies in the Us and have dined in any and every restaurant that they wanted to. They have met chefs across the globe by providing the best of the best and the most unique ingredients chefs need. They are on a first name basis with Wolfgang and Charlie. They were VIP’s everywhere they went. But this weekend, they were our friends from LA that were on this magic ride with us. They had not met Thomas, didn’t even really have a lot of exposure in the Napa Valley. And this was about to be the best dining experience any of us had ever had. As we entered and were seated, we were led to a table in the center of the building, in a quiet little outcove. Just around the corner was the kitchen, not that I could see it from my chair, nor could you hear it. But I saw it as we passed and was so intrigued… The round table was just the right size, the linens pressed, the glasses sparkling and the silver perfect.
Since our friends were in the specialty produce business and we were eager to see as much of this whimsically and creative food as possible, also obviously in denial that we 50ish minutes removed from a 3 hour gastronomical frenzied, french lunch. So naturally we each ordered the 9 course degustation menu with all the supplements making it a 12 course situation and for good measure the vegetarian 8 course menu for the middle of the table that we would all admire and taste. Not getting assistance with wine as my friend insisted I pick as the “know things about Napa guy”. And it was sublime, an Alsatian Grand Cru, Pinot Gris to start the evening. As the iconic Salmon Cornet arrived I felt like a kid who had heard about this magical land and was now taking my first step through the wardrobe. The first bite, perfection, the “Oyster and Pearls”, perfection, the crispy skin on Atlantic Black Bass with a saffron-vanilla sauce, perfection again. Every bite was as good or dare I say better than the last.
As the 5th course arrived, we were all feeling the weight of our afternoon, camping out and eating like we may not see tomorrow. With that, our friend who is a bit of a part time vegetarian didn’t finish her duck course. It wasn't that it wasn’t the perfection of the others, she was simply full and not a big fan of duck or meats at large and yes… We are still friends. Not giving any thought to her partial completion of the dish, there was a visit to the table from the legendary Maitre d' Larry Nadeau stepped to the table and asked if everything was okay? Again in a blissful, eyes rolling back, brimming with delicious food and overflowing with joy, we said that everything was perfection! Which led to another, deeper inquiry. Larry said, Chef Keller would like to know then, why the duck dish was sent back unfinished? A pin could have been heard dropping from a mere inch… We politely explained our friend's vegetarianism and that it was in no way a reflection of the kitchen. That everything was exceptional and perfect and that we simply sucked!!
With that there was a brief but divinely timed space in our menu. I excused my self to the bathroom, where I loosened my belt a notch and splashed a little water in my face. Looked straight into the mirror and like a dopamine pumped, foodie said you will make sure every plate goes back to that kitchen clean. And with every course there after, if our friend wasn’t finishing the Pot Au Feu of Red Wine Braised Prime Beef Short Rib… I was! A bottle of 1995 Niebaum Coppola Rubicon that easily could have laid down another 10 years helped wash down every delicious, perfect bite, after perfect bite.
As the night came to a close for us, Larry let us know, Chef Keller had invited us back to see the kitchen. I was up and ready to go within seconds. I’ll never forget, walking down the hallway leading to the kitchen Chef Keller standing at the pass, wiping plates and calmly marking off courses, and awaiting the next set of plates and small saucepans ready to finish the plates and sign off on the perfection about to go out and wow another guest. The carpeted floor, the tiny squirt bottles of infused oils and syrups, the pass was draped with a clean, white tablecloth, the gold stars on the front of the hood which TK referenced as their own stars, the five rows of the kitchen, creating the seamless orchestra that danced through the kitchen and back out. Chef Keller finished every detail as the plates went out and then observed as every plate came back through the kitchen on its way to the scullery. It was life changing for me. It truly gave me a deeper appreciation for the efforts of a team, and for the presentation and respect of the ingredients. All of Keller’s books are well used in my library of cook books. His techniques, philosophy, and passion has been, and is inspiring. Thank you TK! Viva TFL!
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