The Blind Cafe

Sad to say that we were hugely disappointed. The experience of being in the dark was great, initially, but they could do SO much more to enhance it.
The food was given to you with NO explanation about what it was (God forbid you have an allergy!). There was, for example, a piece of bitter chocolate IN my couscous? And they DID make a big deal about the chefs… we could have appreciated both the effort they put into it AND the food experience if they’d walked us through it – and before you say «blind people don’t know what’s there», remember that in a restaurant you order the food so you have SOME idea… Thank Heaven the water was in bottles so they didn’t spill when we knocked them over feeling around for our food.
I was VERY disappointed in the discussion, such as it was. They REALLY missed a great opportunity to let sighted people «into» their world by LEADING the conversation. Instead it dissolved into sighted people asking rude questions and assuming that the blind feel they’re missing out on life. I wanted to hear more about how they feel their lives are enhanced! :)
And the singer was SO rude. He stopped the music & threatened to have someone thrown OUT because they were talking. As other diners have mentioned, it’s SO loud in there that you have to YELL to speak to someone near you. Also, there were 2 «bands»… one would have been enough. It all dragged on beyond the point of «interesting» into «when is this gonna be over?»
Won’t be back & don’t recommend to friends. I’ve heard of other, more intimate, gatherings that I will try next time. Though a good idea & I believe his heart was in it from the start, I think this has grown too large & was poorly executed.

It’s a phenomenal experience! And you must understand that it is an experience. It raises your awareness and gratefulness for the gift of sight. As with any charity dinner or similar, you are supporting a cause, and a worthy one at that. So go with an open mind and soul.
With that said, you walk in and check-​in. Make sure that you buy your tickets in advance because they sell out! Then, you are assigned a table number and you have an opportunity to have a glass of wine and get socialize with your «table mates.» These are the people you’ll be dining with at the community table.
After a short time of socialization, you are led into a dark pathway into a dark room. Then, it’s pitch black. You can’t see your hand in front of your face. Feel your way to your chair, and enjoy the company. Talk to the people around you, get comfortable, and enjoy the meal… all of which you cannot see.
You are hosted by blind wait staff the entire time. They are super friendly and cater to your needs if you need assistance. There’s a time of music (singer-​songwriter style), and question/​answer sessions with your wait staff. Think about the questions you’ll ask beforehand as this can be very informative.
The food was delightful. Asian Fusion tacos, veggie chips, empanada, with bread/​dessert on the side. Again, you can’t see it, but you ARE able to go on the website after the event (s) have ended and see what you were eating.
Honestly, it’s a really great eye-​opening (GET IT?!) experience, and you should definitely check it out at least once. Take a date, enjoy your meal, have a once in a lifetime evening.
Oh, and leave your cell phone in the car! :)

I have been to the Blind Café twice now. As another reviewer mentioned, it’s straightforward. You’re eating a light vegetarian meal in the dark. Prepare to get a little messy, since the odds are your hands will drift into the wrong place at the table. Remember, it’s about the money being for a good cause, it’s not about a gourmet meal.
It does create a very intimate experience for you and your tablemates. You get to be a little closer with your friends, and you also seem to engage more with the strangers at your table than you would in a sighted situation.
Both times, I really enjoyed the Q&A with the blind waitstaff.
It’s definitely an experience. Everyone should do it at least once. I never think of orange segments the same way anymore.

The thing about The Blind Café is that you’ll get out of it what you put into it. They’re very straightforward about what to expect: a community meal in the pitch black dark, followed by a conversation and music with members of the blind community in Austin. You’re not there for a gourmet meal and there’s never any pretense mentioned otherwise. The food is sourced locally, much of it donated, so you’re also supporting the local community in that way as well.
Starting out, I was a little worried. The waiting area to be seated was a loud, crowded mess. No one was where they were supposed to be and the line for the bathroom seemed to go on for days. My fears were wiped away as people started organizing us and taking us to our tables. The waitstaff was amazing and helpful, the food was interesting (though I still have no idea half of what I ended up putting in my mouth), and the post-​meal conversation was enlightening. There was a Q&A session for diners to ask the blind servers about aspects of their daily life, like how they match their clothes, what kind of sports they play, and what it’s like to be a blind stay-​at-​home father of four.
Attending as a couple, it was a very intimate experience. When my husband asked me a question, my first instinct was always to nod or shake my head. It took a few times to stick that we needed to verbalize everything, taking careful note of the tone of our voice since visual cues were unavailable. Much of the time was spent touching him lightly on the shoulder or arm, just to make sure he was still there. It can be very disorienting at first, so having a person that you rely on next to you is extremely reassuring.
The next time this comes to town, I highly recommend it to anyone looking for an experience that could change much of the way they see.

(sigh) What a huge disappointment. My friends and I were ready for a really amazing experience. In short, we felt trapped, the musical entertainment was akin to a sing-​a-​long at summer camp. The food was just absolutely horrible AND the ticket price is about $ 65 bucks per person.
Terribly disappointed.

Sight is a powerful thing. When it is taken away, you realize just how much it affects how you listen and communicate in everyday occurrences. The best way I can summarize relinquishing my own sight for a few hours with The Blind Café is as follows. My dining partner and I walked away at the end of the evening filled with a combination of what some feel after going to church and therapy. I attend to neither consistently, but I walked away with the same feelings of levity and general happiness after being led into the darkness and wooed for 2.5 hours by strangers.
Certainly an adventure: linking arms with your table’s dinner guests and being guided into a pitch-​black room by your blind server. Our table was lucky enough to be guided by the gracious Yolanda G. The first thought I had walking into the dark room was similar to ‘This must be a dream.’ Our guide clearly verbalized where our chairs were and how much space there was to navigate nooks in between tables. Our steps were those of toddlers first learning to walk, in shuffling trepidation. Forfeiting control of something as simple as movement was counter intuitively both calming and reassuring, mostly due to the notion that I was surrounded by dozens of others in the same blindness, and we were being taken care of by capable hands. Sitting down, we were told our drink was at one o’ clock, with our appetizer plate immediately in front of us and a stew directly behind that. We were invited to begin dinner, and developed the most relaxed conversations with our neighboring dining guests. Many remarks would have not been well received had we been dining with strangers in a lit room, but many of these were confessions of what we felt as we attempted relatively simple tasks, and how we were using our secondary senses to assist us in doing so. It was most analogous to sticking your hand into an opaque box through a small hole and attempting to identify what each object was as you felt it.
After dinner we participated in a question and answer session with the blind servers and volunteers. Finally, a place to ask burning questions such as how blind individuals keep up with internet pages with their omnipresence in everyday tasks, how they handle money transactions, what their dreams are like, how they approach the dating world, how to maintain a refined appearance and so on. The answers were telling, and fascinating. The only question I wish I had asked besides dating was how individuals perceive colors, if blind from birth. Immediately following this Q&A was a mousse-​like dessert, which we passed around to our dining neighbors, often grabbing each others’ hands to make sure each cup was handled safely. I could easily see this dinner being a fantastic team-​building event, in that it serves as a community awareness venture but also as a challenge to work together and become comfortable depending on others to help you.
Dessert was followed by an intimate performance by a string ensemble led by guitarist and vocalist Rosh Brian Rocheleau. As a resident of Austin I noticed the first thing I did as the group began to serenade us was to close my eyes. I find I do this at many smaller music performances to thoroughly grasp every note the musicians intend for their audience. The problem arises when the music setting is in a public venue where socializing and visuals seem to take on an equal if not greater importance to listening to the music itself. Eventually I did not need to close my eyes at all as we took in each note. My dining partner and I were encouraged to dance along to the music in the room’s central dance floor, which was a treat in itself. All dining guests were invited to sing chorus lines in a few songs, which involved acute listening for each breath the lead vocalist took to mark our transitions. After playing violin in symphonic orchestra for 7 years in my youth, this was the closest I have come to reviving the same sentiments of losing myself in each string’s notes, and recreating the sensations sound can have on our bodies if we allow it.
Once the last song was sung, Rosh joined those in the center of the room to give thanks for supporting this widespread community awareness project and how much it has bridged the gap of misunderstanding between the sighted and blind. In a final remark he adds, ‘I never know how to say this so I’ll just go ahead – ’ and lights a single tea candle, illuminating the entire room with it’s tiny flame. Our eyes did not squint at the sudden light, and there was no painful readjusting. Other small candles were lit and gradually added to the room’s light level. I thanked my table’s server and other blind volunteers profusely for this incredible night, shaking hands and connecting with many in the process. Walking away, we vowed to spread the word about this initiative and its invaluable lessons. Thank you all for a truly a profound and enlightening experience.