One of the things I like best about living in Switzerland is that there is always something new to experience. New cities, new mountain views, new recycling insanity, and most recently new bizarre dining experiences. As far as dining goes, I do not have what you would call an adventurous palatte. I'll eat almost any vegetable, some fruits, and any type of bread that is not code for brain. Meat makes me a little skittish, so my policy is no bone, no skin, no fat, no veal, lamb or horse, no problem. My husband can put a chicken wing in his mouth and suck every last morsel of meat, skin, and cartilage off of it. I get urpy just watching him. So the restaurant Bryan and I took my parents to last weekend was a bit of a stretch for me.
The restaurant is called the BlindeKuh which is German for the Blind Cow. The whole gimmick to this restaurant is that you dine in the dark. And by dark I mean, you can't see your hand in front of your face, much less your meal. It is supposed to give you the experience of dining while blind. The coolest thing about it is that the waiters and waitresses are all visually impaired. I can only imagine how annoyed they become with obnoxious diners like me who keep saying, "Oh my God!!! This is SO Weird! I can't see ANYTHING!" I'm sure they were thinking, "Thats the point, dumbass."
Bryan and I had been tossing around the idea of going ever since we got here and thought that my parents would be the perfect victims, I mean guests, to join us. Earlier in the day, I thought my Dad was trying to pull a fake stomach virus excuse on us. I informed him he was not getting out of dinner, and fortunately his stomach settled and we didn't have to worry about him wretching in the darkness to the horror of the other BlindeKuh patrons. In the end, they both ended up being good sports. The fact that we were going to be in complete darkness, did not dissuade my mom and I from having several discussions about what we should wear. God forbid they have an emergency and have to flip the lights on in the restaurant. Someone might see us and notice that my earrings don't quite make the outfit. When we arrived at the restaurant, it was in what looked like an old church. Aside from the name of the restaurant, there was nothing to indicate what lay ahead for unsuspecting diners.
When we walked in the front door, we saw some guys emptying their pockets into lockers. This is where we were told to deposit all of our belongings that produce any kind of light as well as anything we want to see again. If your favorite lip gloss happens to fall out of your pocket while dining at the Blindekuh, you can kiss it a dry lipped goodbye, because there's no chance you're ever going to be able to recover it. I watched Bryan sadly part with his blackberry at the door. I knew he was thinking, "But what if I need to google something that pops up in our dinner conversation?". As the spouse of an IT geek (I say this lovingly), you'd be shocked at how often his trusty blackberry joins us for dinner.
After locking up all of our belongings, it was time to check out the menu. I had already given thought to what I would be ordering. I figured I'd play it safe and go for a simple pasta. The thought of eating meat without thoroughly inspecting it for fat, bone, and thoroughness of cooking, made my stomach turn. Perhaps a nice salad would be on the menu. It might be challenging to eat in the dark, but God gave me fingers for a reason and when no one can see me, I'm not above cramming a little ruffage in my mouth with my hands. But when I looked at the menu that they had projected on the wall in the lobby, my options were very limited. Veal and lamb were on the menu, as well as a fish I had never heard of, and a vegetarian dish with the word "curry" in it. Hmmm...... perhaps I should have thrown a bag of pretzels in my purse and planned on ordering strictly from the wine menu. There was pan fried trout on the menu, but I was concerned that it might be served with all it's body parts intact. God help me and the rest of the restaurant if I popped a fish eye in my mouth inadvertantly. It can't be fun to clean up vomit in the dark. But the host in the lobby assured me it would be served sans head, so I settled on the trout.
Once our dinner choices were decided, the host telephoned our waitress asking her to come retrieve us from the lobby. We were told her name was LeezAH with the emphasis on the AH. If we needed her assistance while in the dining room we were simply to call out her name and she would come to our table. That sounded easy enough and we all practiced her name as we waited for her. Sitting in the dark for hours while none of us could remember her name did not sound like much fun. LeezAH appeared from behind a black curtain and the host introduced her to us. She then told us to form a train, with her at the front and she would lead us to our table. We grabbed onto each others shoulders and congo lined our way behind several black curtains into pitch darkness.
If anyone had been able to see us, the four of us would have looked ridiculous laughing and carrying on about how dark it was as we snaked our way through the dark. We all had different feelings about the experience as we first entered the darkness. Bryan, who was the most laid back about going, was the first to say he had a strong urge to turn around and run the hell out of the restaurant. Thank God he refrained from following his instincts since he was second in line and would have taken the rest of us down. And although I realize this emphasizes my tendency to be airheaded on occasion, I was completely shocked by how dark it was. I obviously knew it was going to be dark, but I thought certainly I might be able to see some shadows, or a little light leaking in from underneath a door. Nope. It was COMPLETELY dark. My parents feelings upon entering the restaurant were probably, "Why the hell did we spend 9 hours in an airplane to visit these two nut jobs?"
LeezAH walked us to our table and spent about 5 minutes getting us all in our seats. I was seated across from Bryan and next to my Dad, who apparently has no sense of personal space when his vision is impaired and practically sat on top of me. This was annoying until I realized how much easier it was to play funny tricks on him when he was in close proximity. You know, genius tricks like reaching behind and tapping him on his other shoulder. At one point he said he felt something run across his arm, but it just might have been the piece of bread I threw at him. We ordered some wine and were quite surprised that they actually serve it in real wine glasses. I've been known to break a wine glass in full daylight, so they were taking some real chances offering me stemware in the dark. When we finished our wine, we decided we'd try to call our trusty server LeezAH over for a refill. So my dad yelled out a timid, "LeezAH!" and received no response. We assumed she didn't hear him, so he tried again a little louder. The third attempt was quite a bit louder and was responded to with a mildly annoyed, "JUST A MINUTE". Apparently persistence is not appreciated at the BlindeKuh. At this point, I'm feeling pretty confident that Leezah will be spitting in my dad's food. When she did come over, she took our food order and asked what size wine my dad would like. He asked for 2 liters. Clearly he's as in tune with the metric system as I am. Leezah let him know she would bring him 2 Deciliters and then walked away (we think). We kept discussing the eerie possibility that she was always standing just inches over our shoulder the entire dinner listening to what we were saying.
When the food arrived at our table, it occurred to me how important presentation is when eating at a restaurant. I started out eating with my fork but quickly dropped it on the floor. Rather than risk Leezah spitting in my next liter of wine, I ate a majority of my meal with my hands. This being said, I didn't eat much of my meal at all. Every time I took a bite of the trout, I was convinced I was eating fish skin. My dad kept assuring me it was breading as he devoured his, but I wasn't convinced. I couldn't shake the vision of me eating trout skin in the dark, and stuck to eating my undercooked potatoes. It certainly wasn't a gourmet meal, but the experience was definately memorable.
When we were done with our meal, we conga lined back out of the restaurant feeling pleasantly wine filled and a little slap happy. This would probably explain the horrible politically incorrect picture we took outside the restaurant in front of the BlindeKuh sign. Bryan, my dad, and I posed for a picture with our arms out in front of us and our eyes closed pretending we were blind. Yeah, not proud of it, but I'm blaming the wine.
