Have you ever had your dinner in complete darkness?
If you’re like me, the answer is probably no. And if you’re like me, you would have thought the “dining in the dark” event I attended last month was a totally cool experience leaving a lasting impact.
The event was organized by the Washington, D.C. chapter of the Young Presidents Organization – spearheaded by a friend who has worked for the National Industries for the Blind.
The organization’s mission is to enhance opportunities for economic and personal independence of people who are blind primarily through creating, sustaining and improving employment.
We started the event by being blind-folded. Immediately one felt vulnerable. You instantly reached out to the next person to support you. In this case, it was the shoulders of our waiter, who allowed us to hold both hands on to her shoulders and led us to our table.
After we were seated, we couldn’t help but notice the extraordinarily loud sounds coming from all corners. Everything simply became more amplified, to the point you could hear whispers coming from the very far table.
And the waiter softly told us that she was about to place a drink to our right. As I took a sip of my wine, the aroma of sun dried mulberry and oak mixed with the acidity of the grape assaulted my taste instantly. It wasn’t just the aroma; it was as if a full symphony orchestra was playing in front of you with top and bottom notes with subtle flavors in between. Without the distraction of vision, one’s senses were so heightened that we were able to pick up the faintest note, that we otherwise would have completely ignored.
The dinner went on, and we were joined by other couples. Everyone talked in lowered voices – despite what appeared to be a very loud environment – for it seemed to go better with the sensory experience.
And before we sank our teeth into the entree, we had already experienced the raw and green smell of asparagus, the smooth and velvety blue potato with a hint of rosemary, and the succulent thyme infused duck breast.
We had never experienced such depth and variety of flavors and fragrances in any meal, but then again, we had never been blindfolded for a meal either. All we could focus on was the food and the others’ soft words.
After the dessert was served and the blind fold was taken away, we couldn’t help but wonder: do we underuse our wonderful senses of smell and hearing? Have we allowed the visual aspect of our lives take over other pleasures of the world? Wouldn’t it be interesting to let your eyes rest once in a while to let our other senses pick up the more ambiguous aspects of nature and life?
The dining in the dark experience gave us a whole new perspective on what a blind person’s life must be like and what we can do to make it better.
Candles and dating. When my boss asked me, the twenty-something marketing assistant, to write about romance and candles I was nervous – stumped even. What to write? It seems to me that with tough times and tight wallets we let romance slide by the wayside in the name of cutting back. Shame on us.
Our home is on the seashore, so following 
The combination of beguiling bouquets and fragrant 
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