Harder than Harvard: The Restaurant You Likely Won’t Get Into

June 4, 2025

How Organic Media Coverage Made Noodle in a Haystack More Exciting Than San Francisco’s AI Gold Rush

A conversation with Clint Tan reveals how a tech worker turned ramen chef built one of America’s most coveted dining experiences without a single PR strategy—and created reservation odds harder than getting into Harvard

You’re more likely to get into Harvard than to snag a reservation at Noodle in a Haystack.

Let that sink in for a moment. Harvard’s acceptance rate hovers around 5%, while securing one of the 12 coveted seats at this San Francisco ramen temple runs closer to 2-3%. More people get into Harvard Law (~1,700 annually) than get a seat at Noodle in a Haystack (~1,400 annually). In a city obsessed with the AI gold rush, the most exclusive experience isn’t digital—it’s a bowl of ramen so good it stripped me of any culinary pretense. I slurped those noodles like I had never known table manners. That was the strength of the dish.

The Golden Ticket Economy

The reservation scarcity that made my dinner feel so special isn’t accidental. It’s the direct result of media coverage that transformed supply and demand dynamics in their favor. With only 12 seats per service, operating just 2-3 nights per week, Noodle in a Haystack offers roughly 120-150 total monthly seatings. Meanwhile, an estimated 5,000+ people attempt to secure reservations each month through Tock releases, creating those brutal 1 in 40-50 odds.

At $205 per person, it costs less than Taylor Swift tickets but delivers more exclusivity. The real currency? Luck, timing and refreshing Tock like your life depends on it.

This scarcity isn’t manufactured; it’s the organic result of what Clint describes as a “butterfly effect” of media coverage that created demand far exceeding their intimate capacity.

As someone who transitioned from media to tech PR, I was fascinated to discover that this power couple had made their own career pivot—from tech to food—and built this reservation lottery system through pure media magic, all without a formal PR program.

During our conversation between courses, Clint shared the remarkable story of how organic media coverage transformed their living room pop-up into one of America’s most coveted dining experiences. His candid reflections reveal a masterclass in authentic storytelling and the compound effect of genuine media relationships.

The Butterfly Effect Begins

“None of this should have happened. This was against all odds,” Clint told me, reflecting on their journey from tech workers to acclaimed restaurateurs. The story begins with an unlikely catalyst: Anthony Bourdain’s influence on a young San Francisco native who felt like “the black sheep of the family.”

“I moved to Japan because I wanted to eat,” Clint explained, describing his seven-year stint in Tokyo that would eventually shape their culinary philosophy. After bouncing around motels and immersing himself in Japanese ramen culture, he met Yoko, and together they developed the skills that would later captivate food critics across America.

The media breakthrough started with a single relationship. “Soleil Ho of the SF Chronicle heard about our restaurant when we were serving in our living room and said if you open up a restaurant let me know. So it started with her,” Clint recalled. This early connection with the respected food critic would prove to be the first domino in what he describes as a “butterfly effect” of media coverage.

Building Without a Blueprint

What struck me most about our conversation was Clint’s admission that their success came without any formal strategy. “Didn’t do PR – it was all word of mouth,” he said, a statement that would make any communications professional both impressed and slightly anxious.

This organic approach reflects their broader philosophy of authenticity over artifice. When they launched their Kickstarter campaign to transition from pop-up to brick-and-mortar, “We thought we had enough because we had a $100,000 Kickstarter and that was gone in six months.” The financial reality of opening a restaurant in San Francisco hit hard. Just to prove they could boil water for ramen, they had to shell out $40,000 for a metal hood. For months, all of their cooking was powered by two countertop Anova Precision Smart Ovens running on 120V outlets.

That minimalist setup made what came out of the kitchen even more impressive. It felt like a magic trick—the kind of ingenuity you expect on a campsite, but elevated to a Michelin-caliber level.

“We didn’t know if it would work,” Clint admitted, but their genuine uncertainty and transparent struggles became part of their compelling narrative that media outlets couldn’t resist covering.

The Media Moments That Mattered

When I asked about the most impactful coverage they received, Clint’s responses revealed how different media outlets served different purposes in building this reservation lottery system:

The New York Times: The Game Changer

New York Times was most impactful. We never anticipated the reaction from a New York paper,” Clint said. Despite being just a paragraph in their prestigious annual restaurant list, the impact was immediate and transformational. The recognition validated their concept on a national stage and brought diners from across the country to their 12-seat counter.

Bon Appétit: The Deep Dive

Bon Appétit was most thorough,” he noted, referring to their inclusion in the magazine’s Best New Restaurants of 2023. The magazine’s comprehensive coverage provided the kind of detailed storytelling that helped readers understand not just what they were doing, but why it mattered.

KQED: The Thoughtful Local Voice

KQED was thoughtful,” Clint said, highlighting how the local public radio station’s coverage captured the nuanced story of their transition from pop-up to restaurant, providing context that resonated with Bay Area audiences who had followed their journey.

The Compound Effect of Authentic Coverage

What emerged from our conversation was a clear picture of how genuine media relationships create exponential impact. “However the media coverage led to a butterfly effect,” Clint explained, describing how each piece of coverage built upon the previous one.

The trajectory was remarkable: early validation from Soleil Ho led to broader local coverage, which attracted national attention, ultimately resulting in recognition from The New York Times and Bon Appétit. “We were busy before the Bon Appétit review,” Clint noted, emphasizing how the momentum had been building organically.

The Paradox of Media-Driven Scarcity

Perhaps the most revealing moment in our conversation came when Clint discussed their omission from a recent San Francisco restaurant ranking. “This is like failing upwards,” he said with characteristic humor about not making the top 100 but being mentioned in the “didn’t make it category.” 

The irony is delicious. In April, San Francisco Chronicle writer MacKenzie Chung Fegan published “The Top 100 snub list: Why these Bay Area restaurants didn’t make the cut,” and Noodle in a Haystack’s entry perfectly captured the reservation impossibility that media coverage has created:

“For the life of me, I cannot score a reservation to Noodle in a Haystack. Bon Appétit named it one of the best new restaurants in the country in 2023. The Michelin Guide calls its tasting menu ‘singular… offering some of the most memorable ramen in the Bay Area.’ I would love to confirm or deny, but until I get a faster internet connection, I’ll be hitting ‘refresh’ on Tock alongside all of you.”

Here’s a professional food critic—someone whose job literally requires dining at restaurants—admitting defeat in the face of the reservation system that media coverage built. The restaurant didn’t make the Top 100 list not because of quality concerns, but because the writer physically couldn’t get in to review it.

“It takes Michelin three visits to consider you for a star, but I don’t know if they can get in to make their review,” Clint mused during our conversation. Even food critics—the very people who helped create this phenomenon—now struggle with the access they’ve inadvertently restricted.

This creates a fascinating feedback loop: media coverage drives demand, which creates scarcity, which generates more media coverage about the difficulty of getting in (like Fegan’s piece), which drives even more demand. The reservation system has become part of the story itself, and sometimes the story becomes bigger than the restaurant.

The Economics of Exclusivity

What’s remarkable about this scarcity is that it’s not driven by price but by genuine capacity constraints. At roughly $205 per person, the tasting menu is expensive but not prohibitively so compared to other fine dining experiences. The true currency is luck and timing, not just disposable income.

The Power of Authentic Storytelling in Creating Demand

What Noodle in a Haystack demonstrates is that in our increasingly connected world, authentic stories don’t just cut through the noise—they can create scarcity that money can’t buy. Their reservation difficulty came not from manufactured publicity campaigns but from genuine relationships with journalists who believed in their story and wanted to share it with their audiences.

The golden ticket phenomenon I experienced isn’t sustainable forever, but it represents a masterclass in how organic media coverage can transform a small business into a cultural moment. For other entrepreneurs, their journey offers both inspiration and a cautionary tale: exceptional media coverage can create demand that exceeds your wildest capacity to fulfill it.

As I left Noodle in a Haystack last night, full of exceptional ramen and inspired by Clint and Yoko’s story, I realized that my “golden ticket” was really a front-row seat to witness how authentic storytelling can create value that transcends traditional economics. In a world where so much feels manufactured, sometimes the most powerful stories—and the most coveted experiences—are the ones that unfold naturally, one genuine relationship at a time.

The reservation may have been harder to get than Harvard admission, but the experience proved that some things are worth the statistical long shot.

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Curtis Sparrer Principal Bospar PR Marketing

About the author

Curtis Sparrer is a principal and co-founder of Bospar PR. He has represented brands like PayPal, Tetris and the alien hunters of the SETI Institute. He has written for Adweek, Entrepreneur, Fast Company, Forbes, the Dallas Morning News, and PRWeek. He is the president of the San Francisco Press Club, a NorCal board member of the Society of Professional Journalists, a member of the Arthur W. Page Society, and a lifetime member of NLGJA: The Association of the LGBTQ+ Journalists. Business Insider has twice listed him as one of the Top Fifty in Tech PR. PRovoke named him to their Innovator 25 list twice. PRWeek named him its most Purposeful Agency Pro.

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