Dark Restaurant

Stepping through the curtain into the dining hall all turned pitch black. I removed my wristwatch and stuffed it down my pocket when I noticed the numbers on its face glowing prominently in the dark. It was impossible to see the table we were shuffling toward. Blindness was the point of the dining experience.

Kim has come. She's passing through Québec en route to a college reunion down in New York. The two of us went out for dinner last night at O Noir. Not only is the setting void of illumination--none of the servers can see. The entire waitstaff is blind.

Kim and I both ordered the surprise three-course menu. Dishes consisting of ingredients we had no clue about were set some place in front of us we couldn't see. Taking silverware into hand, scooping; piercing; and slicing, then bringing each bit to mouth--it's a wholly different experience when you can't see.

Another Darkness: Enormous Sinkhole along Sherbrooke

We had to guess at what we were eating. More often than not our guesses were completely wrong. What we were certain had to be some sort of seafood melange turned out to be steak tartare. We were correct in detecting the sweet potatoes in another dish, but missed the half-dozen other vegetables that had been mashed in together. I thought the crust of our dessert was some sort of grain--perhaps oats--but turned out to be marscapone. Our other senses seemed amplified, particularly hearing: chatter from tables in all directions gave us our only sense of orientation and layout.

Kim and I plan to share another unique dining experience back in Québec City. I've promised to take her to the local greasy poutine joint the locals swear by, Ashton.

More culinary adventures to come...