The city's dining scene is legendary, but getting a seat at the best spots has become its own absurd sport — one that requires calendar alerts, browser refresh fingers, and the patience of a monk. House of Prime Rib, the beloved retro institution on Van Ness, is now booking a full year out. Let that sink in. You need to know what you want for dinner in June 2026 before you've figured out what you're doing this weekend.

But HoPR is just the beginning. The current Mount Everest of SF reservations appears to be spots like Four Kings and Fù Huì Huá, along with perennial nightmares like Noodle in a Haystack and Showa. One local foodie lamented that Cotogna has become essentially unbookable, noting, "I have a gift card I've been trying to cash in for ages." Imagine literally having free money for dinner and still not being able to spend it. Peak San Francisco.

Here's the real kicker: many of the hardest-to-book restaurants only release reservations a few weeks in advance, meaning you can't just plan your way out of the problem. It's not a meritocracy of preparedness — it's a lottery system that rewards people who happen to be refreshing Resy at 10 a.m. on a Tuesday.

Now, we love that SF's restaurant scene is thriving. A city where people fight for dinner tables is a city with a pulse. But there's a supply problem worth acknowledging here. Between labyrinthine permitting processes, sky-high commercial rents, and the regulatory gauntlet of opening any food business in this city, it's no wonder we have too few tables and too many hungry people. Every restaurateur who looked at San Francisco's bureaucracy and said "no thanks" is a reservation you can't get tonight.

One local perfectly captured the mood with an American Psycho reference, recommending "Dorsia — great sea urchin ceviche!" At this point, a fictional restaurant from a satirical horror film feels about as attainable as a Friday night table at most of these places.

The food is world-class. The access? That's a policy problem wearing a hostess apron.