The memo was so impressive, I was somewhat amazed to see my own name on it, but there it was:

When:  Tuesday, October 16

3:00 PM PST at The French Laundry

6640 Washington Street,

Yountville, CA

What: Food Editor, Sasha Paulsen and Food Writer, Pierce Carson of the Napa Valley Register, will conduct a tasting ...

Paul Roberts, Master Sommelier, Director of Wine and Beverage, and Nicolas Fanucci, GM of TFL, to be on-hand to answer any questions

Schedule:

3:00 p.m. PST Sasha Paulsen and Pierce Carson to arrive at TFL

3:05 p.m. PST Kristine Keefer to introduce Paul Roberts and Nicolas Fanucci to journalists

3:10 p.m. PST Tasting to begin …

My friend and colleage, Pierce, and I were going to have a cup of coffee.

But not, of course, just any coffee.

This had all begun a few days earlier, when I received an impressive e-mail from a New York PR agency telling me that the French Laundry had secured a portion of a rare, costly and apparently fantastic coffee, produced only by about three coffee plants somewhere in the highlands of Central America. The Panama Esmeralda Geisha had sold at auction for $130 a pound, “making it the most expensive coffee in the world.”

Giving way to a fit of realism, which overtakes me from time to time, I e-mailed back, “But is it as good as Peet’s?” In my view, it’s impossible to be better than Peet’s.

The result was a cordial invitation to overcome journalistic skepticism, come up to TFL and try it. Pierce, much more accustomed to these exalted realms, agreed to accompany me. To the French Laundry we went. Pierce made sure we were on time so as not to throw off the schedule.

I had eaten at the French Laundry a couple of times, but never knew if my great pleasure in the experience had not been waywardly influenced by the fact that I wasn’t picking up the tab. Nonetheless, the near-mystic allure of the place cannot be overlooked. When we arrived, a couple was wandering forlornly about the gardens outside the restaurant. Clearly members of that class of zillions who have not been able to secure a reservation, one was commenting to the other, “At least we can smell the air outside the kitchen.” I admit it: I felt entirely smug as Pierce opened the door and I waltzed past them — inside.

They were, of course, ready for us. A white-clothed table was set with three cups and saucers, three kinds of sugar and a dish of  shortbread. We were graciously greeted by about 13 people, including the great man himself, chef/owner and culinary genius, Thomas Keller. He, however, did not mention the coffee, but wondered if Pierce knew when we’d hear about the new Michelin guides.

“There now, you see? He worries about these things,” Pierce said to me, offering this up as evidence that Keller is, in fact, human, something about which I have expressed occasional doubt, owing to the fact that the man makes his macaroni and cheese with lobsters. (Note: Keller, of course, did not have to worry because the following Monday the new Michelin came out and again the French Laundry was the only Northern California restaurant to receive three stars, a circumstance that causes all sorts of hand-wringing in San Francisco.)

We were joined by Paul Roberts, an entirely affable and extremely young man in charge of wines and other beverages. A silent server carried in a silver coffee pot on a silver tray. He had also brought a tiny pitcher of cream, but one sensed that to add it to the coffee he’d poured would be something of a sacrilege.

We tasted it. The thought crossed my mind that, amid all this graciousness, elegance and air of absolutely je ne sai quoi, he could have poured us cups of the dreadful stuff that is brewed at the Register and sits on the burners for days at a time until it evaporates into goo, and it might have tasted just fine. But, in fact, the coffee was quite good — extremely good. I would venture that when God needs a cup of coffee to get going in the morning, he would probably opt for this one, which might explain its scarcity.

So well did Pierce discuss  its lovely jasmine on the nose, its balance on the palate, its layered nuances and its beautiful finish — and the fact that the somewhat persnickety bean called to mind pinot noir grapes — we could have been swirling and sipping a Burgundy grand cru, except we didn’t have to spit it out to make it a proper tasting.

Meanwhile, I ate a cookie and Roberts told us about the Panama Esmeralda coffee, which had been  rediscovered four years ago in Panama, growing in one block at the highest altitude of Hacienda La Esmeralda. It apparently had been planted in 1963, but then forgotten because it was a low-yielding variety. It survived, however, the 1998 rains that decimated the rest of the grower’s crops and when he discovered and tasted this bean, the man was astonished by the flavor.

This year Roberts had been able to secure a bag of it, and now the French Laundry and Per Se, Keller’s New York restaurant, are serving it to VIP diners, while the supply lasts. These rare beans brought to mind the French Laundry butter, which — you may not know, — for a long time was produced only by two gifted cows in Vermont. This number was lately increased to five so that Per Se can also serve this butter — you see what it takes to get three stars from Michelin.

At any rate, although it was quite a good cup of coffee, I was reassured to learn that he had not actually paid $130 a pound for it — that was just what the auction price had been. After this auction he had paid something more like $35 a pound for his bag. They are going to see how guests like it and then decide if they will go back to secure more from the next harvest.

“You know, of course, who bought most of it,” Roberts added. “Peet’s.”

I knew it.

Sure enough, a few days later, I was in Peets, and there it was on the board: “The return of the reserve Panama Esmeralda coffee.”

The going price was $24.95 for a half pound but this had not deterred anyone, because I asked the woman who was measuring out my French roast beans ($11.95 a pound) about it, and she said that they had, in fact, just sold out. The coffee would not be back until next year.

So there it is: To taste this sublime coffee, you’ll need to get a reservation at the French Laundry, and then ask for it. Just for the record, the coffee is included with dinner.

Or you can stand outside in the courtyard and sniff the air as it brews.