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[title]Dans Le Noir is a French restaurant near Farringdon station. Their original venue opened in Paris in 2004, and two years later, the London branch landed in Clerkenwell. As the name suggests, it’s no ordinary restaurant: diners must eat their meal in total darkness. And as bizarre as it sounds, it’s clear the concept has stuck: two decades later, they also have locations in Barcelona, New York, St Petersburg, New Zealand and Nairobi.
But the darkness isn’t the only thing that’s special about Dans Le Noir. They also employ blind and partially sighted waiters to guide the disorientated diners through the experience. As a blind person, I have often struggled to find work, with retail and hospitality jobs being particularly challenging. I wouldn’t be able to read the product labels or operate a till, while restaurants are crowded, there may be trip hazards and it would be a danger to both myself and diners if I were to use my cane while juggling plates and clearing tables.
But Dans Le Noir is equipped to solve these kinds of issues and I was offered a trial shift as a ‘guide’ in the London branch. The role entailed guiding customers to their tables, serving food and helping guests to the bathroom (you’ll be pleased to hear the toilets are lit).
On the big day, I arrived at the restaurant and was greeted by the sighted manager, who explained a bit more about the company’s ethos. ‘Fifty percent of our workforce is disabled,’ she said. ‘At our London restaurant we currently have nine visually impaired (VI) guides working with us.’
My trainer was a VI waiter called Ghow who had worked at the restaurant for 18 years. ‘Some of our customers get claustrophobic in the dark – it happens about once a shift,’ he said. ‘Somebody panics and we have to take them out. Also, a lot of customers drink in the bar before they come up to the dark room, so they need more help.’
The first stage of my training was a memory test, which involved familiarising myself with the room and learning where each table was. Due to safety, canes are not allowed to be used in the dark room. Instead, the waiters navigate using their hearing and spatial awareness – which wasn’t an easy feat. I thought I had a fairly good memory beforehand, but when my trainer called out a table number, I would dither and didn’t get a single one right.
Next up: the menu. At Dans Le Noir, there isn’t actually a list of items to choose from. Instead, diners specify whether they want a surprise menu of meat and fish courses – like seared tuna in a miso dressing followed by veal with crispy potatoes and roasted veg – or the vegan surprise menu. Upon being served, diners must identify the contents of their plate using their other senses and only find out what they were served at the very end of the meal.
‘Because our diners are in the dark, we want to make sure the food smells and tastes good, so I like to play around with spices,’ said Dans Le Noir’s sighted chef, Mourad. ‘I also experiment with textures. A lot of our customers do not use the cutlery and eat with their hands, so we never serve soup or anything too saucy.’
Communication is vital during service – even more so than at a normal restaurant. ‘We have headsets and radios to talk with the kitchen and our managers,’ Ghow said. The plate shape is significant: circular is for meat or fish and square is for vegan dishes. This is so waiters know whose order is whose when serving a big table.
Guests are asked to hand their phone and any device which emits a glow
Before long, my moment arrived: my first shift in Dans le Noir as one of its waiting staff. When service started, it all went black – pitch black. If you’re a guest, you will be asked to hand in your phone and any device such as a watch which emits a glow.
At first, serving tables went without a hitch: I managed to set each plate in front of the right guest for a table of six, without spilling any food on them. But within an hour – and with 80 customers expected during the night – the place was heaving. Soon, I was ready to crawl into a ball and cover my ears from the loud voices, scraping knives and forks and clink of plates.
‘Can I get two glasses of merlot, one lime and soda and a Cosmopolitan for Table 19,’ a guide said into her headset. ‘Is everything okay with your food?’ another asked.
‘Coming through, coming through!’ a third shouted, pushing his trolley.
‘Excuse me, I’ve dropped my fork’ a diner called out. Another said: ‘Would you be able to take me to the toilet?’
‘Oh my god, I just spilt the water everywhere!’ I said, adding to the racket.
By 7.30pm I was done. I came away knowing the job wasn’t for me – but while I may not be cut out for blind hospitality, there’s something to be said about the skill and patience of the team. The food isn’t too shabby either, so I’ll definitely be going back as a customer. I just won’t be donning an apron any time soon.