I mean, really really dark.

Saturday night, we went to Opaque. It's called a "dining experience", not a restaurant, because it's hosted in the ballroom of a hotel on the Sunset strip. The basic idea is that you eat a meal in pitch blackness. This is supposed to challenge the rest of your senses and also help you realize how much we rely on visual cues when we eat.

Also, it's supposed to be fun (and it was!).

I had read a couple of articles and reviews, and the idea of it made me kind of nervous and giggly. Thinking about it gave me butterflies in my stomach. I just didn't know what to expect.

What's funny is that I had pictured, in my mind, what I thought it would be like... right down to how the place would look. Now, obviously, I have really no idea whether I was close or not, because I didn't get a look at the dining room. You do get a sense of the size and geography of the room, though.

We were introduced to our server, Michael, in the lobby. He was, as the website says will be the case, blind. Our party of four lined up behind him, right hands on right shoulders, and started our little choo-choo procession into the darkness. The entrance is a series of turns that eventually block any trace of light. There's a wall you can touch with your left hand, and fortunately, our table was right at the end of that wall.

It was dark. Darker than dark. But your eyes don't believe it, at first. You keep getting the vague feeling that you can see shapes and shadows articulated out of the blackness, and then you realize that you're just seeing the shapes and shadows of your own vision. I do think there were two really faint lights across the room, but they didn't do anything for our table! And they were behind me, so I didn't fixate on them.

We'd ordered in the lobby, so they brought the drinks in, along with a basket of bread and a cup of butter for each side of the table (somehow the girls ended up on the same side, and so did the boys). N, the girl next to me, kept saying, "Oops, I just touched the butter with my fingers!" and eventually we decided that we're good enough friends just to scoop the butter directly out of the cup using our bread. The boys, more stubborn, tried to use their knives. K, across from me, ended up actually slathering a large amount of butter directly on the tablecloth. We know this because over the course of the evening, he kept sticking his hand in new butter.

Drinking wasn't very hard, but it was anxiety-inducing suddenly to have something on the table that could be knocked over (when we first got there, I couldn't get over the feeling that there was an invisible candle that I would somehow burn myself on). It seems, however, that my many years of pouring drinks for myself have paid off in the ability to blindly pour wine without looking.

When you're in the darkness with people, you find yourself wanting to interact with them by touch. The husb, to get his refill, would set his glass down "by the bread basket". First of all, there were two bread baskets. Second of all, I hated the feeling that I was reaching out for something and that it wasn't reaching out for me... does that make sense? I liked the brush of fingers, knowing that someone was actively grabbing something out of my hand or setting it in my hand.

At first, everyone said they felt more comfortable with their eyes closed, but after a minute, you just relax into it. And after maybe an hour, the swirling, muted colors and shapes in my "vision" seemed to calm down.

Eating in the dark is rather interesting, as well. The salads were great, and I muddled along with my fork as long as I could. Finally, I broke down and used a fork-finger combination. When it came time for the entree, I pretty much gave up immediately. The food was very good, except for what I assume were carrots, which I don't really like (unless they're covered in peanut butter or ranch dressing). I kept finding new food on my plate... while digging around for another piece of macaroni, I'd happen upon a large slice of chicken. I took to giving my extra chicken to K because I wasn't hungry enough. But I used the, "Hold out your hand" technique, because I thought it was Highly Amusing to just stick a piece of chicken in someone's hand.

Dessert was good, but very rich, so I didn't finish it. Finally, we choo-choo trained our way back to the lobby, where we found that for a few minutes, we didn't really look directly at each other. We'd be talking and all kind of staring off in different directions.

I really, really enjoyed myself. The folks I was with were glad they went but said they didn't need to go back, but I kind of want to. I kept trying to think of ways to do something like that at home, but I honestly don't think it's possible (in the first place, who would serve the food?).

So I have to say, if you ever have the chance to experience this kind of dining, go for it. It's a little pricey (although N and K paid for us -- nice friends!), but it's such an interesting little push out of one's comfort zone.

Happy Monday!