WWFB: “Heart of Darkness” Edition
The scene: Montréal, Canada. You’ve spent all day gazing upon your beloved husband and you just need a break from his devastatingly handsome face. So naturally you book a table at a restaurant that promises to plunge you into total darkness for the evening!
If O.Noir were a person with an online dating profile, he or she could legitimately proclaim: “I’m not picky about your looks” without sounding desperate. That’s because all of the waitstaff is blind, and the dining room is 100% pitch black, so guests, too, are plunged into complete darkness during the meal. I’m talking Vantablack darkness.
We met our server, Matthieu, in the dimly lit lobby, where he had my husband put his left hand on Matthieu’s left shoulder, I followed suit with my hand on my husband’s shoulder, and our little 3-person train inched its way through a curtained maze of a passageway into the dining room and eventually to our table.
It was super disorienting — we had no idea how big the room was, how many tables there were — and how to escape in case of emergency.
When we were seated, Matthieu gave us verbal instructions on how to find our wine glasses, silverware, napkin, and plate.
When we made our reservation a few weeks ago, we pre-ordered the surprise menu, which meant we had no idea what would be served until we started to eat it — and as it turns out, sometimes not even then!
We’re fairly certain the entrée was beef, and there may have been some kind of pork rillette situation on or adjacent to the salad. Dessert was… something? It was probably plated beautifully but of course no photos allowed so we’ll all just have to take their word for it. Honestly, I gave up on using silverware two seconds into the salad. Why would I want to poke the side of my face repeatedly with vinaigrette-draped arugula? Thankfully we’re already married so my husband was unable to back out after discovering what a barbarian I am when dining in the dark.
It’s true what they say about your other senses growing stronger when one of them is diminished. Well, clearly my spatial relations skills were not improved, nor was my sense of taste. But our hearing! My god, this place is a gold mine for eavesdropping!
Most diners were comparing notes on what a trippy experience it was, but a few other conversations stood out…I think the couple next to us was on their first date, which is genius, actually — if one of them was bored, the other would be totally oblivious to the eye-rolling, horizon-staring, and watch-checking. They seemed to be having a good time, which was nice.
Another party elsewhere in the dining room was full of mischief-makers, as we overheard one of the them ask, “What the…Are you messing with my plate?” and another replied, “Oh yes, I’ve been moving stuff around on it all night!” #noregrets
Anyone eavesdropping on our table would have learned what I think baba ghanoush feels like, which one of us had our eyes open and which had them closed, and how it would really have been better if I had skipped that last cocktail at the magical speakeasy before dinner. #spinning
