A blind date ...

Now, just in case my wife should get worried, this wasn't that kind of a date. I am in Vienna on business this week and last night, our local host took us for a meal with a difference.

We were told we were going to a restaurant for dinner in the dark. When we got to the venue, it was explained that this wasn't going to be a candlelit supper, but one completely in the dark, as a way of experiencing life without one of our most important senses. And as part of the experience, we knew only that there would be four courses and that we could choose meat, fish or vegetarian for our main course.

There were 16 of us in the party and we were ushered through a curtain to a holding area in two groups. I joined the second group and, once through the curtain, our waiter Mahendra instructed us to take the hand or shoulder of the person in front and then walked us 30 paces or so to our table, in pitch darkness. We had already been told to turn off our phones, so that the light from the screens would not be any help to us, so when he told us to stop, turn to our right and find our seats, we had to do so completely by feel.

We sat, having worked out that we were on the opposite side of a single, long table from the first group, who were already seated and whose voices helped us to orientate.

First, our waiters (Kristijan on the other side of the table) took our drinks orders. I opted for a beer. "Would you like a glass with that?" was answered in the negative, as I was sure that was a recipe for a damp lap at least.

After drinks were served came our appetiser. Our waiters handed us the plates and we placed them on the table in front of us. By this stage I had already felt on the table and found two forks to my left, two knives and a soup spoon on top of my napkin to the right and a dessert spoon and fork above. There was also a pen and a sheet of paper, more of which later. The starter, as I felt carefully, was a small salad, with two bowls of dip and a couple of pieces of bread. Using knife and fork in the dark was difficult, though the bread and dips were easier. I managed to finish the course with relatively clean fingers and felt proud of passing the first test. We all commented on how rich the flavours of the food seemed.

Next, the soup course. You can imagine that when our waiters told us to be careful and that the soup was hot, the idea of being handed the bowl was challenging. Fortunately, the soup bowl was also on another plate and so it arrived on the table without a spill. A pleasant minestrone, I did find that when blowing on a spoonful to cool it down, I could hear some falling back into the bowl as I blew too hard.

Between the soup and main course, we were given three objects to guess what they were. One was a model of a cobra, the second an elephant and the third, I am sure, a camel. Examining them, I found myself really noticing the texture and temperature, as well as just the shape.

Then the main course arrived. I felt a wooden skewer running through the meat and then felt saute potatoes. It was easy enough to eat the meat straight from skewer - after all, who was going to comment on my table manners? But there was a vegetable mix which was rather wet to the touch and so needed the fork. And my hands needed a wash in the finger bowl we had by now found on the table.

After clearing the plates, our waiters invited to follow their voices to join them at the bar, where they offered us a glass of grappa or Jaegermeister. I have never been known to turn down grappa and so inched my way towards them.

We were then told to find out seats again. By now, a little more confident, we worked as a team to do so. Dessert followed, apfelstrudel and vanilla ice cream (the bowl felt cold to the touch, so easy to work out what that was). One more wash of the fingers and we were asked how many for coffee. We couldn't raise our hands, so worked out that we need to call out "one", "two", "three" and so on. I was number six and we were served in the order that we called. A small plate, with a black coffee, pot of cream, packets of sugar and a glass of water. That was easy.

After another sensory exercise, which involved sniffing the contents of three screw-top containers (star anise, cloves and tea) we found our way to the exit and were shown what had been on our plates. All fine!

We also finally got to meet our waiters, both of whom were blind and so no more disadvantaged in the darkened room that they were in daylight. Mahendra, my waiter, had been in Vienna for 20 years - he came as a student, met a girl, fell in love ... well, you can guess the rest! We had a good chat; when I told him I worked for Nokia he told me how he used our products - he is a particular fan of Nokia Maps and uses the pedestrian navigation with voice guidance to help him find his way around the city.

We also got to compare notes, literally. We had been asked to write a message, do a drawing, write down the names of the objects, etc. The good news is that my handwriting is no worse when done in the dark than it is in full daylight. But that isn't saying too much.

For the group, it was a great way to experience the world of the 10% or so of the world's 40 million blind people who have no light perception at all. Or to put it another way, around the same number of people as the adult population of Finland. A good reason why those of us in the industry need to think about the accessibility of our products. It certainly opened my eyes.

Colonel in Chief ...

I have been ruminating on the culinary contributions of two Colonels over the last few days, both men of history but from opposite sides of the Atlantic.

The first will be known to most in the western world, Colonel Sanders. He was the entrepreneur who, at the age of 65 was faced with the failure of his restaurant due to new interstate taking business away. He went looking for franchisees and the business became Kentucky Fried Chicken (now KFC), which he sold in 1964 for USD 2 million. So, his culinary contribution is a secret blend of 11 herbs and spices and a business which now feeds millions of people every day. Oh, and though he started in the US military, his title was an honorary one, bestowed by the governor of Kentucky in 1950.

The second Colonel is a little more obscure, at least to those outside of Finland and Sweden. Johan August Sandels died almost 60 years before Harland Sanders was born, yet his legacy also lives on to this day.

A Swedish soldier and politician, Colonel Sandels led the Swedish troops to victory over the Russians in the Finnish war of 1808-9 (when Finland was still part of Sweden). His exploits were recorded by Finnish national poet JL Runerberg and, according to Wikipedia, "Runeberg's poem tells a story of Sandels having a feast while the enemy mounts a premature attack. Sandels continues his meal and is accused of cowardice, after which he raises and rides to the battle, drives back the enemy and is praised by his men." It reminds me a little of the story of Sir Francis Drake finishing his game of bowls before attacking the Spanish Armada. 140 years after his death, the Finnish brewery Olvi started brewing Sandels, which has become my favourite mass market Finnish beer. On the back of the cans are inspiring tales of his courage.

So, which one should be the Colonel in Chief? Well, for me, it would have to be the real war hero who inspired a beer. But it would be interesting to enjoy both of the Colonels' products together. But I've not yet seen a KFC yet in Helsinki!