Patrons queue up single file, place one hand on the shoulder of the person in front and are led to their table for a most unusual dining experience. Smoking is banned. So are flashlights, matches, cigarette lighters and luminous watches.

Much of the staff at the Blind Cow Restaurant is sightless.

Why such behavior and rules?

The Blind Cow Restaurant

The Blind Cow Restaurant in Zurich, where they've come to eat, is staffed primarily by blind people and operates in darkness.

The owner, the Rev. Jorge Spielmann, believes that the entire "blind" effect for sighted guests would be spoiled by even the merest glimmer of light. The only concession to sighted guests is that restrooms have lights. However, the sighted must be guided there by the staff just as blind diners are.

Hugely popular with locals and travelers alike, the 60-seat Blind Cow generally is booked months in advance for the evening meal and for most lunch hours.

Daily menu offerings are posted on a lobby chalkboard. A staff member will recite the choices for blind diners. The menu is a la carte, with a selection of salads, entrees and desserts. Featured are traditional German dishes such as beef in red wine, dumplings, sauerkraut, roast chicken, pigs knuckles and apple strudel. Some vegetarian dishes are offered, and wine and beer are available. One cook and the kitchen assistant are sighted. A second cook is legally blind.

Most sounds are characteristic of any restaurant: wines being poured, the scrape of cutlery on porcelain, the clatter of chairs on a hardwood floor. However, heard throughout the room is the unusual sound of jingling bells worn on the shoes of wait staff as they make their way among the diners. And because diners usually overcompensate with their voices for the absence of sight, the noise level of conversations can be intense.

Dish breakage at the Blind Cow is no more than at other restaurants, the staff says. But many diners abandon etiquette and utensils and eat with their hands because they feel it's easier in the dark.

One diner reported a surprising departure from the blackness: A puff of ghostly green phosphorescence rose when she tore open the sweetener packet that accompanied her coffee.

"Blind" dates are a hit at the Blind Cow, and several dating agencies arrange for people to meet in the darkness of the restaurant where they can ask questions and be themselves without seeing the person opposite. Later, if they choose, they can reveal themselves in the lighted lobby.

Darkness sometimes encourages practical jokes, waitress Christine Wegmueller said with a laugh. "Recently, we had a party of three couples where the women all got up to go to the washroom together. When they returned, the men had changed seats, and all leaned over to give their wives lingering kisses.

"I heard one woman shout: 'Stop, stop! You're not my husband! You taste different!' The others couldn't tell the difference, or if they did, it didn't deter them, because they kept right on kissing," she said.

Checks – in both Braille and type – are paid in the lighted lobby after the meal.

Not all dining experiences are pleasurable at the Blind Cow. A few people have become overcome by claustrophobia caused by the intense darkness. An elderly guest said the darkness reminded her of being transported in a dark boxcar to a concentration camp during World War II. Several diners complained that, without sight, the food was tasteless. And although children enjoy the relaxed etiquette, some are bothered by the darkness. (The restaurant recommends diners be 7 or older.)

The idea for the unique restaurant came from dinner parties held in Mr. Spielmann's home. Blind himself, he would sometimes blindfold sighted guests to give them an opportunity to experience the world of the blind.

He said sighted guests commented that being blindfolded gave more emphasis to the food and conversation. "There were no visual distractions, only intense concentration," he said.

Mr. Spielmann, along with four blind colleagues, raised money from local businesses and the city council and in late 1999 opened the Blind Cow Restaurant in a old church building. Added to his goal of teaching the sighted about the sightless world, he wanted to provide jobs for blind people.

The restaurant's name – in German, Blindekuh – comes from the Swiss equivalent of the children's game blindman's bluff.

The restaurant is so popular that Mr. Spielmann, 37, is being urged to open branches of the Blind Cow. The restaurant has been visited by "concept" designers from New York and Los Angeles.

However, manager Adrian Schaffner says he feels that the Blind Cow idea most likely will expand in Switzerland and Europe before it does in America.

"People thought it would be just a novelty and would wear off," he said, "but we are booked solid for months ahead for the evening sessions."

The increased popularity is gratifying to supporters of the Blind Cow, but for Mr. Spielmann, the mission is unchanged.

"Although we wouldn't wish blindness on anyone," he said, "we just want people to have the opportunity to experience our world on our terms."

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