Dining in the dark

Apparently it is a thing. Sounds gimmicky but what is the point of making money if you can't spend some of it on an intriguing gimmick. So we headed over to Opaque in San Francisco Saturday night to try it out.

You walk in to a narrow entry way where the hostess receives you and hands out menus to choose your food. You choose from a couple of options in a prix fixe menu, pick your drinks and then are ready to enter the restaurant proper. The hostess asks you to turn off your cell phones (I put mine on vibrate and stuffed it in my purse. And held my purse tight between my legs the whole time so I would feel the vibration if it went off. I may have a slight problem), take off any watches and otherwise eliminate all sources of light. Then she hands you off to your server, who is legally blind - like all the wait staff. The group forms a little train behind the server, each holding the person in front of them. (Pro-tip : There's a lot of touching - deliberate and accidental - over the course of this evening. Best to go with people you know fairly well!). The server is the engine of this train and guides you into the restaurant proper. You go through a darkened passageway, past a blackout curtain and you are finally in the pitch dark. I cannot overstate the blackness of this dark. My pupils spent the whole evening dilating but could not distinguish the slightest shape. The server guided us each to our seats and we began the meal. When we were lining up to enter the darkened passageway, I felt a moment of utter panic. But once we were seated it passed. I felt around to get a mental picture of the table's layout and position of my fellow diners. The server described the serving strategy : she'd bring the plates to one side of the table and the two people at the end would pass them down to the others. It worked quite well; too well in my opinion. Once we were seated it felt disappointingly like a normal meal. Sure we jabbed our forks all over our plates but there really was not much difficulty. I had a water glass and a drink on either side of my plate; not only did I drink from both easily, they were not even slightly in the way when passing dishes back and forth or reaching to try the food in my neighbour's plate. Should not have been surprising considering the ease with which I walk around my bedroom in the dark. We are better than we think at limited navigation through known territory.

The food came in one course at a time, was duly passed down the line of diners. Much giggling ensued during the first couple of courses as we tried to eat what we could not see. I hear that the remaining senses are enhanced when one is lost, but it probably takes longer than a couple of hours. None of us felt our sense of taste or smell enhanced by the blindness. Quite the reverse, I lost a lot of the flavour of the food by not being able to see it. I also found myself shoveling the food down my throat in an unseemly hurry due to some trace remains of anxiety. I had to force myself to slow down and savour the food. That helped some, but again I realised how much I take sight for granted during an eating experience. For instance, I always combine things on my plate for optimal taste - a piece of cheese with every bite of salad. Or a delectable crouton saved till the end as a final treat for my taste buds. It was quite frustrating not being able to do that.

The food was quite good but not extraordinary. Given the logistical nightmare of running this place, the price ($100 per person for food) is probably justified. But at the end of the day, I can't honestly say the experience was worth the cost.