As anticipated events go, they don't come much bigger. I'd been building up to this dinner for three years, reminding my wife over and over (and over) again that all I wanted for my 50th birthday was dinner at Thomas Keller's renowned French Laundry in Yountville. There were some stumbles getting the reservation, but we finally got our Golden Tickets.

Dinner for four -- me, mrsS, and another couple who are close friends (my buddy the Music Man and his lovely wife, who teaches at our kids' high school). We arrived early for our 5:45 seating, so we wandered across the street to a tasting room for a glass of wine. Yountville is a lovely little town with far too much money rolling through it. A nice, crisp glass of not-chardonnay got things started.

We strolled in on the dot of 5:45. Mr Keller does not accept less than perfection. Our friends had brought a beautiful, 20-year old bottle of cabernet donated to our endeavor by another foodie friend and former colleague (now emeritus). A mere $75 corkage fee. But I think that is the last I will mention money, because money, really, is no object at the French Laundry. But it was enough for me not to even jokingly suggest that we bring a sixer along.

The evening's menu, personalized. Originally, it just had my name on it, but after the mrs told the waiter that we were also belated celebrating 50ths for our two friends, they reprinted, and gave us the menus to take home at the end of the evening. As you can see, this is a "tasting menu" restaurant. The alternate menu was a tasting menu of vegetable dishes, which looked fantastic too. But we weren't going for it.

I was perusing the wine-by-the-glass list, about to order a glass of the Gaston Chiquet, Blanc de Blancs d'Aÿ, Grand Cru because, well, the first course was going to be oysters, damnit, when John asked about the 2003 Lopez de Heredia, "Viña Gravonia," Blanco, Rioja. Our waiter -- personable, friendly, knowledgeable, supremely professional -- proceeded to describe that wine, noting that it was "a little oxidized, with a sherry-like quality." We both perked up at that, and nodded in agreement. Two glasses, as the ladies stuck with water for the first courses while the cab we brought was decanted and allowed to breathe awhile. Great choice.

An amuse-bouche arrived at table. It was a cute little ice cream cone-shaped, deep-fried something-or-other, filled with a delicate salmon mousse. zomg. I could tell that the previously skeptical ladies (both known to be perfectly content to eat a bowl of cold cereal for dinner) were getting on board the train.

First course was Keller's justly renowned "Oysters and Pearls" : two (or was it three?) tiny little Island Creek Oysters and a quennelle of White Sturgeon caviar from a Sacramento-area farm over a creamy sabayon of pearl tapioca. Now, mrsS has never eaten caviar before, and mostly because she was grossed out by the concept. She did not leave so much as a single egg behind in her dish. Just a fantastic, fantastic starter. Creamy, briny, succulent, decadent, salty-but-not-too-salty. Awesome.

Next came a small salad of tiny, delicious tomatoes, cucumber, picholine olives, burrata (a cross between mozzarela and cream), basil, and tiny croutons. Very tasty, but not up to the standard set by the starter.

A fish course: a small (4 bites) piece of pompano crusted with crushed almonds and pan-roasted, over a small rectangle of roasted belgian endive, with a spoonfull of a riesling-pear emulsion, a tiny piece of poached pear, two little sprigs of watercress and ONE almond (or two, in mrsS's case; we considered sending hers back). the Music Man thought his fish was slightly dry, but mine was perfect. All the dishes were beautifully plated, and this one was sweet and aromatic and meaty and rich. The endive was a nice counterpoint to the crusted fish and beautiful sauce. The almond, we giggled about, but everyone ate theirs.

A second fish course: maine lobster poached in butter. Each portion had a chunk of claw meat and a bit of tail -- about four bites again. This was served in an intense beet broth with two perfect little tortellini filled with a horseradish-potato mixture, and couple little slices each of roasted beet and celery. The lobster was delicious, but, I will have to admit, the tail portion was a little chewy. #firstworldproblems The dish was beautiful and well-balanced. Bring on the cabernet and the meat!

Next, a rillette of pekin-style duck, served with tiny strawberries, a bit of roasted turnip, a couple of bites of pickled ramp, and some slivers of crisp, peppery mustard greens. Wow. The rillette had a thin little fat cap on top. HUGE, ginormous flavor. If there had been more than 4 bites, it would have overwhelmed the meal. Four fantastic bites.

The "main" course was applewood smoked bacon-wrapped veal ribeye with chanterelle mushrooms and three preparations of spinach -- a spinach ball filled with an orange-flavored spinach something something, a spinach puree, and a scattering of barely wilted micro-spinach leaves, with a schmear of a very intense veal stock demi-glace. On the side in a wee little pot was a Pommes Dauphine (potato puff) in a creme freche preparation. The waiter sold the potato puff ("Pommes Dauphine au Cœur de Veau", i.e., with poached veal heart) as having a pastrami-like flavor, but we didn't really pick up on it. I actually thought that the interior of the puff was a little dry. Tasty, but it almost sucked the moisture out of my mouth.

But the veal. Wow. Cooked perfectly. The bacon was very intense, but, luckily, cut very thin, so that it did not overwhelm the veal, which was that combination of tender/succulent and rich that goes with great veal. Seriously, "try the veal".

The penultimate course was a palate-cleansing cheese course. As with every other course, a small army of attendants was involved in clearing the last course, setting new silverware, and bringing the new course. One of the servers stays behind to describe the new dish. In this case, it was a young guy, obviously not one of their more experienced servers. He flubbed it -- could not remember a couple of the dish's components. I felt bad for him, but he regained his composure before leaving the scene. Probably to commit seppuku back in the kitchen before the executive chef. It was the only hitch we saw all evening from a huge wait staff.

Anyway, Andante Dairy "Decadence," [ed: oops, it's called "Cadence"] a ten-day old, soft white cheese, very creamy and rich with just a hint of funk, served in a few spoonfulls of cold peach soup with a bite of fennel pollen shortbread (mmmm), candied pecans, a couple of tiny cubes of peach and some crunchy, refreshing slivers of fennel. Yea, baby.

And then the desserts started. Good lord. There was a little fruit presentation (strawberries and I don't recall). Fabulous coconut ice cream with a sprinkle of crunchy sea salt. A little bite of a chocolate cake (disappointing, frankly, but with interesting accompaniments). AWESOME, homemade chocolate truffles. Birthday cake! and a little demitasse of chocolate mousse served with bowls of donuts, chocolate-covered macadamia nuts, and little fruit-filled meringue cookies. A barrage of desserts. We left about a hundred dollars' worth on the table. Well, not quite, but we couldn't finish the donuts and meringue cookies, good as they were.

Before the meal, we had joked about stopping by In-N-Out on the way home. By the end of the meal, we were all stuffed and sated. The mrs had nothing negative to say about the pricetag. It was a glorious experience. She's even talking to the Boy about, maybe, if he wants, we could go when he turns 21. Holy [redacted]!!! #winning!

Bottom line: wow. A meal of a lifetime. Great friends, great service, great food. Everyone should have the opportunity to enjoy a truly great restaurant doing its thing at least once. I got that chance, and I'm happy that I did.