We perceive food and architecture with all our senses. Food is not just about taste and architecture is not solely visual. These are multisensory experiences seamlessly dependent on sound, texture and smell in addition to taste and vision. In our workshops such as Eating Without Eyes, we cut off one sense at a time to heighten our other senses. I’ll never forget ‘Dining in the Dark’, an unusual dinner I experienced in Saint Petersburg, Russia.  

We secured our phones in lockers as we weren’t allowed to take them inside. After selecting our menu, a cocktail and being given a brief introduction from the host, we were lined up; palm on the shoulder of the stranger in front of us.  We heard a voice of what I thought would be a very strong man, and before I knew it, everything changed. As we walked through a sort of zigzag maze, it kept getting darker and darker. Once inside, I could see crazy green and red circles floating in front of me and that’s all I would see: patterns, for the next hour and a half.

Collective Confusion

We heard people laugh and chat, heard some squeal and joyfully scream. Then, our waiter arrived, grabbed me by my hand and guided us to our table. He spoke in Russian. After a few overwhelming seconds, he finally stopped at our destination. Pulled out a chair, I heard it scratch against the floor. “Chair”, he said, placing my hands on it. He then pulled my hand towards the table, “Table”. I sat down, and the colorful patterns were getting crazier.

My heart was racing. I was excited, but terrified at the same time. There were three of us seated at this table, my spot was next to the soft wall. ‘The Lady’, as our waiter would refer to her; was seated next to me and ‘The Gentleman’ sat across. Both of them went with the green menu (they were both vegetarian). I felt adventurous and went for red instead (meat).

Being a curious architect, I found myself feeling around the place to get my bearings. The walls seemed like rough brick beyond the soft lining pushed up against our table. I felt the chair I was sitting on, wooden, most definitely, with circular members for support. The floor sounded wooden, I took my socks off just to make sure. Half the table felt wooden; but to my left there seemed to be a break in material, cool and smooth. It’s strange how everything we touched, we associated with material, color and form. I couldn’t help but think how different it must be for someone who has never seen these things.

Hyper-sensitized

We listened to each other with 100% concentration once we were settled in. No phones, no distractions, just undivided attention. “Cocktail”, I was handed the drink we had ordered before stepping inside. It was the Neva Cooler, I picked it because the Neva river runs outside the hotel, through main St. Petersburg. I didn’t want to knock it over so I made sure to line it up against the wall to my right. That way, I felt some sort of order. Nothing else was on the table.

As I listened to the voice of him sitting across me, I remember picturing every single thing he said, concentrating hard. I  looked in his direction, although I didn’t know exactly where he was sitting, apart from the occasional reach out for contact across the table. He spoke about a party he had been to the last Sunday. I pictured myself being there. When our first course arrived, I was handed a shot glass and heard my plate being placed in front of me. He bumped my shoulder, firm but not hard, “Appetizer”, he said, “Red”. He did the same for ‘The Lady’, to my left and ‘The Gentleman’ across from me, whose voice I will never forget. We wondered; how can someone who is visually impaired tell what he is serving us, especially by calling it “green” or “red”.

Dining in the Dark

We were given some cutlery; and after a few shots in the dark and empty forkfuls hitting the table or blank spots on the plate, we gave up and went in with our fingers. Wary touches around the plate: something hot, something cold, something chopped, something sliced, something sticky, something flakey. I picked it up, sniffed it, took it close to my mouth. I moved my tongue around, chewed it. Pushed it to the corner of my plate, I didn’t like it. I found a straight edge. But ‘The Gentleman’ across me and ‘The Lady’ to my left didn’t have straight edges. Their plates were round. Then it hit us!

Green menu; round plate (that’s how the visually impaired waiter could pick up the dish from the kitchen and serve it to our table). Red menu; square dish! So maybe blue menu (seafood) would be served on a triangular platter?

We confirmed this hypothesis with the arrival of the next course. Once again, my dish had four edges, their dishes had none. A cup was handed to them. It was warm, and the aroma of strong coffee wafted from it. I grabbed it from ‘The Lady’ and took a good whiff. Then I put the cup to my lips and tipped it toward my mouth. Kept going. Nothing. Was it empty? Put my fingers inside, felt a gelatinous mass, a chunky jelly and some ground powder over it. Tasted it. It was too bitter. Coffee beans. Dug into the jelly, creamy mushroom. Together, the bitter and the creamy worked melodiously.

As we continued eating our main course, I reached out to find my cocktail I had placed along the wall. Only to find a line of about six glasses there too – ‘The Gentleman’ across me had done the same with all his glasses too. We discussed what we were eating until dessert arrived.

After Math

Later we found out what we had eaten. Dessert was a teacake, which typically I would have jumped at, but eating it without knowing that, I didn’t like it. The only thing I didn’t mind was the ice cream, which I ate like a cave man. Dining in the dark was an experience like no other. I had read about it before, but living it was something else. There were no blindfolds, there could be no cheating. Cutting off the sense of vision not only made our other senses come to life but also made us empathize with the visually impaired. We were overwhelmed in just 90 minutes.

The setting (the eating-place) itself was virtually non-existent. Often, we go out to eat for the ambience. The design and décor of the place we’re eating at lends to the dining experience. I found myself imagining the ambience with colors, material and textures, design elements, all in my head, just to get a sense of where I was. Another take away was that the company you keep at a meal matters. The experience would be different if it wasn’t for ‘The Gentleman’ sitting across me, and ‘The Lady’ sitting next to me. I felt connected with them, They were the only things that mattered, besides the food in front of me. I didn’t like the food much, maybe I didn’t know what to expect or what I was eating, but that didn’t matter, it was an experience I’ll never forget.

Have you experienced eating under unusual circumstances? Would you be intrigued enough to try something like this? Share your thoughts and reactions  in the comments below! If you’d like to write about an unusual eating experience, write to us.