Whenever I was asked, in the weeks leading up to the Idea Festival's Lights Out Dinner at Louisville's Asiatique, I said the purpose for a dinner with blindfolded participants was to heighten their powers to taste, smell and feel, and to learn, collectively, how we would respond to those newly sharpened powers in the presence of really good food. It was an experiment with voluntary blindness as much as it was an invitation to let the other senses take center stage for a while.
Sounds more than a little esoteric, in hindsight. Or at least shortsighted.
As it turned out, heightening the other senses by dampening one wasn't the end, only the means. Participants didn't just sit back and savor the sensations involved in experiencing a pat of cold foie gras served atop a streak of chile-infused chocolate and accompanied by a sorbet made from habanero peppers. They talked about those sensations with their tablemates, intensely. And they used what they were experiencing, along with input from others, to deduce ingredients, seasonings, and Chef Looi's techniques. Then they laughed or grimaced or razzed one another, or loosed shouts of triumph, depending on how closely their guesses aligned with reality when Chef Looi provided his testimonials after each course.
It became, as Louisville Courier-Journal columnist Bob Hill said, a rollicking Name that Food contest.
Again, that wasn't what exactly what I had in mind, but it makes sense. And it's actually a response a lot more appealing than an alternative scenario might have been, in which we all sat around in our self-imposed darkness and tried to describe what our heightened senses were telling us, or just sat and experienced in silence.
And so, what I learned is: don't be so damned high-minded. People aren't going to slip into trances or ascend to higher states of ecstatic consciousness because one sense is hobbled while the others wallow in everything they love--salt, brine, sweetness, tang, smoke, fire, etc.
This wasn’t no Timothy Leary thing.
People love mysteries. And they love using the clues at hand to solve those mysteries. At the Lights Out Dinner we provided for our own mystery by keeping ourselves in the dark--literally and figuratively--about the menu, and then provided ourselves the clues, and parsed them with our tablemates. Then Chef Looi confirmed or invalidated our conclusions.
Consciousness expanding? High-minded? A worthy exercise for an organization that has charged itself with exploring innovation and creativity?
Who’s to say? All I know is, no one appeared to walk away disappointed, even the guest who had a glass of champagne dumped in her lap (the only mishap the whole blindfolded evening, strangely enough). And many walked away having enjoyed exhaustive conversations with total strangers that were kick-started and given direction by the task at hand: name that food and how it was prepared. And they enjoyed that aspect as much as they enjoyed the sumptuous food and wines.
This knowledge, now gained, will inform the proceedings at the next Lights Out Dinner, at downtown Louisville’s Mayan Café. Stay tuned.
David
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