Think you know about food? Think again as Dans Le Noir? is the ultimate dining experience, as the name suggests, you dine in the dark, not just a little bit dark but total darkness, you can see NOTHING.
Obviously we’re here to tell you about everything Nottingham has to offer in the food department but once in a while you come across something you just have to tell people about. If you’re a foodie then this experience is definitely for you. To make things harder, we’re actually dining at the Paris venue, so not only will we not be able to see but with only my school French lessons to go on, we have little idea what anyone around us is saying either.
We’re not going to tell you what was on the menu as we’ve heard it doesn’t really change, so if we tell you it will spoil the experience, having said that, what we will say is that it’s not the best food you will ever try but possibly the most interesting. There is no menu to choose from, other than being asked about allergies or dietary requirements you have no idea what you will be eating. You can though choose between two or three courses and whether you have wine but not what sort of wine – that you have to guess as well.
When you enter the restaurant you are asked to place any bags and particularly mobile phones in the lockers provided to ensure there can be absolutely no means of light. You are placed in a group with other diners by the front of house and introduced to your waiter. Your waiter is blind or partially sighted. As we waited to go into the dining area I felt a pang of guilt. Was it right that the waiters were being used in this way? Whatever your views on that, as you leave the restaurant you will be in total admiration of them. As we struggle to eat they are waiting on tables – just one of the ways in which you realise how much you take your sight for granted throughout the experience.
Thankfully our waiter speaks a little English, we are asked to place our hands on the shoulders of the person in front of us as we are led through a door into the dining area, once in you can not see a thing, not even your hand in front of your eyes. For the rest of the evening you are totally blind. Our waiter guides us to a table we can not see, with our free hand we feel for a chair we can not see either. At this point I feel a sense of unexplained panic rise in me. I can’t explain why, maybe it’s just the fact that you feel so amazingly vulnerable. I suddenly want to tell them I’ve changed my mind and leave. I wonder how many have?
Somehow you manage to sit down. We are told that there is cutlery on our table and thankfully a napkin. I fumble around the table and place the napkin on my knee. Our waiter brings a jug of water to the table and glasses. We fill the glass with water by feel alone, putting a finger in the glass to sense when it’s near full. I tentatively put the jug and glass back onto a table which I have no idea how big or wide it is or if anyone is sat opposite me. You can hear voices, I shuffle my foot to the other side of the table to ascertain that there is no one there. I have no idea how big the restaurant is, how many tables or for that matter people, the thought crosses my mind that it could be a recording, maybe there are no other people other than those we came in with but I doubt it. I identify my wine as white. Not what I would have ordered but I knock it back all the same to calm my fears.
The only time we know our waiter is around is when we hear the words ‘pass pass pass’ probably for everyone’s benefit. A sign at the front of house says there is an infra-red camera which I assume is for everyone’s safety. Our starter arrives. The only thing to do is touch it to see where it is. My hands hover over the plate, touching down over items of unidentifiable food. The smell suggests one of the items, the other is sweet and doesn’t seem to go with the first. I try to use my fork but fingers are the only sure way of knowing what’s left on your plate. What you find really weird is that you recognise the tastes on your plate but you can’t place them. The loss of sight and the written word on a menu is more huge than you could ever imagine.
I leave part of my starter. My taste buds tell me I don’t like it, something which is reaffirmed when we are eventually shown what we have had at the end. The waiter collects our plate, how he knows where things are astounds me. The main course follows, again a mixture of flavours and textures, some identifiable, others not. There is meat but I can’t decide between pork and beef. It is the ultimate palate test. I’ve calmed down a lot now but still struggle to confirm what’s on my plate. When they do the pallet test on Masterchef they can at least see the food. I wonder to myself how many chefs would fair well here in guessing what was on their plate. I thought I knew about food but the experience made me realise I still have a lot to learn.
I reach for my second glass of wine, there’s food on the stem and base which i have no idea how it got there, what it is, or even if it is mine. I wonder what the rest of the table looks like?? I’m a pudding lover, so was grateful for the selection of desserts which finished our meal. Proof that your senses are totally screwed, there was one item on my plate I knew I’d had before. I racked my brain over the taste and texture but couldn’t work it out. I was totally amazed when I finally learnt what it was later – something I actually eat most days!! Our waiter skilfully cleared our plates and we continued to sit in total darkness. It occurred to me that we could be sat here some time if he chooses to leave us as we have no idea how to get out. I know which direction I got to the table from and wonder if I could feel my way out. We sit for what feels like a long amount of time, it’s probably not but with nothing to look at it likely it feels longer than it is, but it at least forces you to talk and reflect.
Finally our waiter returns to lead us out. We awkwardly manoeuvre out of our chairs and flounder for each others shoulders. Once attached he leads us out through the restaurant and through the door, back into the world of the seeing. It’s only been a couple of hours but you feel like you’ll never see again. The relief when the light hits your retina is immense and my emotions race from total pity for our waiter that he will always be in darkness, to total awe at the way he actually lives his whole life-like this. I want to give him a hug but that would seem inappropriate, so I simply tell him what a pleasure it is to meet him.
Before we settle the bill and leave, the front of house staff give us a card showing what we’ve actually eaten. Some I’ve guessed, others you can’t believe you didn’t recognise. With prices starting at 39 euros pp the meal is expensive, but for the experience itself, It’s absolutely priceless and the good news is that a percentage goes to charity. We left the restaurant able to talk of nothing else and friends are amazed when we recall the experience to them.
There are Dans Le Noir? restaurants also in Barcelona, London, Nairobi and St Petersburg but to me Paris is the one to go to, you hear very few people speaking English in Paris, so the fact that you can’t hear what others are guessing the food is heightens the experience. My advice – try it. Without the use of words, colours and sight, food takes on a whole new level.
For more information visit: www.danslenoir.com/
Dans Le Noir were not aware we were reviewing them and we paid for our meal in full. All opinions are our own.
By Tanya Louise Raybould
