Dans Le Noir review - Times Online

Last night, I ate in the darkness. No, I’m not talking about biscuits in bed. I was in a restaurant cloaked in pitch black, designed to transport us to new heights in gastronomy…

My stomach is still wincing from the memory, and I’m not alone in thinking as much:

What’s the point of Dans le Noir, you may well be asking. The answer seems to be twofold: by depriving the diner of sight, it is hoped that his or her other senses will be heightened. It also enables sighted people to empathise with nonsighted people. On both of those counts, the restaurant achieves its aims. But at Dans le Noir, you do not wish for your other senses to be heightened; you would quite like to be deprived of them too. Especially your sense of taste.

The bar area, at the front of the restaurant, is lit. You can have a nice drink there and deposit your belongings in a locker, which gives the place the air of a municipal swimming pool. After a while, a blind waiter appears and leads you through heavy curtains to a room enveloped in total darkness. With the waiter’s help, you fumble into your seat and attempt to locate your cutlery and alcohol, hearing strangely disembodied chatter from fellow diners. It is, without doubt, a hugely disconcerting, disorienting experience, claustrophobic almost to the degree that it induces panic. And, just when you are attempting to come to terms with the whole thing, your food (chosen from a menu in the bar) arrives and the sense of panic increases.

It was certainly a memorable experience. The food was so vile and repellant, it’s not one that I care to repeat in this lifetime. Afterwards, we were led blinking into the light, collectively relieved that the ordeal was over.