And you, are you epi-curious?

This week and for the first time, we were willing to offer our guests quite an unusual experience: that of dining in the dark, by candlelights and stars. By erasing as much as possible the border IN and OUTdoor. Because outside, on the shore of Lac du Pêcher, at night, it is completely dark. No light pollution on this evening, therefore, conducive to a communion with the constellations and at the same time, to celebrating energy savings and our regained senses, starting with smell and taste. By the way, do we often smell what we eat?

As for taste, who thinks they have a real control over their taste buds? Masked pupils, what do our taste buds tell us? Dinner (almost) in the dark resulted a disconcerting sensory experience for our guests: we take parsnips for Jerusalem artichokes, rabbits (cooked at low temperature) for poultry, morels for hazelnuts. Here is what came out most often from this evening.

Another feedback that has the merit of being honest: "In the pleasure of waiting for a dish you love, you may intensify this gustatory pleasure by the simple thought of tasting it. Not knowing reduces the pleasure. "am I told. Um, interesting! Does this mean that our taste would be falsified by memory and positive thinking?

Let us reassure yourselves: we did take the time to ask our guests about their possible food allergies. Not on what they do not like because tonight is precisely the day to get rid of our conditioning. The time is Zen, to rediscover food... as if we were eating for the first time. Some who "didn't like oysters" precisely rediscovered them in an espuma through a fine iodized taste.

This morning, when I asked some of our guests on their departure: "Would you come back? Would you recommend? ", the direct answer was: "pure happiness". Which speaks for itself, doesn't it?

So, we're thinking about it... about a ritualized hypnothetical evening. Would you join? Have you ever had a similar experience?