Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Opaque-Dining In The Dark

Light. It is something that so many of us take completely for granted. I had a really fascinating experience this evening, so I will tell you the story in the present tense and as though I do not know how it ends. Please keep in mind that time is all relative because we had no way to see watches from the time we went in (about 7) until the time we came out (about 9:35).
We walk past what looks like it should be the only restaurant right there to a door that should be part of Indigo. When we walk in the door, we are greeted by an affable man who leads us down a short flight of stairs to a couple of clear glass tables where we can sit and wait for our server/guide. While we wait, the amiable young man comes to brief us, saying that our server, Senya, is legally blind and will be the one taking care of us the whole evening. The cordial young man, in the meantime having bounced up and down the stairs at least seven times, brings us menus printed in black ink on translucent paper. The menus describe the arrangements for ordering and paying and give us our options for the prix fixe three-course dinner. Having had a sumptuous meal of dim sum for lunch, I opt for the vegetarian options all the way-baby spinach salad with goat cheese, penne with eggplant, peppers and a tomato-tarragon sauce and the bittersweet chocolate cake with vanilla bean ice cream and minted strawberries for dessert. A very tall man appears at the door leading to the dining room, introducing himself as Senya, our guide. We rise from our low seats and go to him, telling our names in turn and putting our left hand on the left shoulder of the person in front of us. He leads us through the door telling us that it is a bit of a maze. I close my eyes, knowing that I will transition more easily if I am not straining against the deepening darkness. after turning around a couple corners and holding a curtain out of our faces, we are brought to our table and told to follow the edge to our seats. Mom and I end up on the booth together and so I slide all the way in, connecting with a bit of wall before stopping. Once we are all situated in the pitch dark, Senya tells us that he will serve us and collect our finished dishes from the corners then leaves us to go get water and bread. He returns with water shortly, handing it to Mom who carefully hands it to me. He puts the bread in the middle of the table while Dad situates the butter dish just to the inside of the bread basket and Senya tells us that it is okay to "get our hands dirty" now with the butter (which we must find by touch and therefore are bound to put our fingers in it) and bread. He has also brought pieces of cucumber topped with smoked salmon and wasabi aoli for us. Once I finish that, I begin to 'look' around me, explore my surroundings. I determine that I am in a corner between a wall that drops off to a foot-and-a-half-high wall with a round pillar sprouting about two-and-a-half feet in front of me and the very high back of our booth. I also find that there is a set table about two-and-a-half feet to my right. Senya soon brings out a plate of fresh vegetables with dips for us and we decide to try to guess what everything is. We determine precisely what all three vegetables and one of the dips are with ease but the other two dips prove a bit more challenging. We end up getting one of them half right but remain mystified by the other. Senya soon brings out our salads and passes them around, telling us which is which. He leaves and we begin, carefully, to eat. The first bite of salad is like a cheesy, vinegary explosion carried on spinach for me, so I offer to share the goodness with Mom, who accepts and we carefully arrange a trade, me putting the food on the fork while she reaches for and finds my hand. I tell her how I am handing her the fork and we successfully make the trade. She then arranges some tuna and pineapple on a fried wonton for me and places it gently in my palm. We listen to the other conversations around us, not very many it seems, and talk a bit about whether the black seems solid black or whether it is punctuated by lines and spots or perceived (but imagined) light/colours. Awhile later, Senya returns with a sense of humour and our entrees. We learn more about him in about two minutes than I have learned about some teachers in a year including that he is six-foot-five. We all eat our entrees slowly, talking as we go (Dad's steak was VERY tender). We share each item, reaching across the table or open space for a hand or an arm to which we can hand a loaded fork. While we are eating that, Dad realises that he can best describe his wine in terms or music and that the one he is currently drinking has a lot of bass. Senya brings people to fill the table to my right and we are very humoured by their findings and exclamations as they acustom themselves to eating in the dark knowing that we said many of the same things earlier. When we get our desserts, we are already stuffed but still manage to thoroughly enjoy the warm (to the point that the centres were liquid) chocolate cake. The next time Senya returns to check on us, Dad comments on how nice the undertone harmonics in his voice are and we find out that Senya is a singer. :-D When we are ready to leave, we stand up and line up again to follow Senya out of the dining room (this time, I keep my eyes open). My return to the light is an odd experience. Because of the way Opaque is set up, it is not the painful sort of light that opening my eyes is in the mornings sometimes, but is strange nonetheless. I go from being comfortable with being able to see nothing outside my head to being quite disoriented by the fact that there is light hitting my eyes in all colours from all sides. On the drive back to the hotel, I notice every little light around me and appreciate the variety of types, shapes and colours of lights in this city.

p.s. my apologies if this was boring or did not make sense, it is late but i did not want to wait until the memories were dulled by time to write it tomorrow.

No comments:

Post a Comment