AV DINNERS | audio-visual gastronomy by ambientTV.NET ........................................................................................................................................................................food and art, live arts, aphrodisiac, max/jitter, max/msp, Anthony Auerbach, Mariko Montpetit, Mukul Patel, Manu Luksch, Moonradio


epic eros

by Shane Solenki

Is getting easier
Enjoy taste first with your eyes
And then with your ears
Hear textures
Taste colours
imbibe the sounds of succulence
Feed upon the flesh of visions
Served as hors deuvres
To those whose appetites
Are satisfied with sounds and sights
information bites of an apple
transmuted sensation
pieces of a webcast pie
which melt into mouths
via imaginationís eye
allow yourself to be conveyed
to a land where blades hold visions
deft incisions imbue prey
with pregnant dreams
omniscience through osmosis.
In the beginning was the curd.
A cordial setting the tone
From which
A bitches brew
Is conjured
A high priest
Welcomes you to a feast
Concocted in the catacombs
The shattered wombs
From which emerge
The seeds of a bounteous demiurge
Fed into the mix
through cable spaghetti
The active ingredient
Being quicksilver
Mercury streaming
Substance with meaning
And tastes of what was
Like milk from the nipple
Ripples of information
Echo out across an ether lake
AV dinners
For voyeurs and sinners
Come take a bite
Of this audio visual
See if your juices are triggered
Is you alive
to the heat of the dive
into senses?
The party commences
A drink to wet your tongue and teeth
The name of our aperitif
Is a remedy to those
teetering off an edge with no name
relight your extinguishing flame
with Cyndi SuicideÖ.

Cyndi Suicide

Cyndi is a master
of the ancient
and elaborate
welcoming its guests
Instantly putting them at ease
Removing jackets
and loosening ties
With warm smiles
and good conversation.
The masks of formality melt like ice
Tension slips from shoulders
The spell is cast with finesse
A subtle touch
Glass raised to lips
The prelude to a symphony
The rumble of kettle drums
And quiet beckoning of horns
That carries the intelligent guest
to her seat
The hairs
on the back
of her neck
in anticipation
of the oncoming
The call to arms
is dry
and yet brimming with confidence
at the pleasures to come.

Consider the fruition
Letís see if my malnutrition
Has any volition
Cos heís on a mission
For the exersion of perversion

His kitchen
His kitchen
his kitchen
His kitchen
His kitchen

On the AA
Drinking triple sec

On the AA
Drinking triple sec

On the AA
Drinking triple sec

On the AA
Drinking triple sec

Sapphire Bombay
Leather whip
Shoot from the hip
Bitter to hit her with
Ice ice baby
Itís the fashion
Of the smashin
Who are mashin
Passion pulp
Take a gulp
Thirst quench
Feel the tension slip away
Triple x
Double a



sounds of succulence
hints of decadence suspended in solution
proof of the intelligence inherent in evolution
flavours ground and found in sound
and softly savoured nightly
coat your yongue in melodies
and dust with sugar lightly
paradise is served on ice
a garden of earthly delights
encouraging bites
and licks
and delicate nibbles
flows of juice
from expectant glands
well versed in the chemistry
of forbidden fruits from distant lands
as above
so below
in this garden
taste buds grow and blossom
into plants
whose sway and dance
mirrors the invisible seams which hold together hellís harems
drops of aromatic oil
are bled into the fertile soil
flowering treasures
endless pleasures
the sweetmeats made
of milk and honey
with which heirs to thrones
are seduced
their palettes submerged into pools
of cream and silk
enveloping pores
and opening doors
unto that mystical realm
that can only be tasted
and never be seen
or heard
the tongue
which makes the word
must first be enraptured
and tamed
bt that which can never be named
only experienced
senses flooding
infinite silence within
guess whoís coming to dinner.


The taste of an oyster is like the colour of the sea.
A raw pearl necklace
consumed by the reckless
Paradise protected
by a shiny shimmering shell
The blooming of a flower
Whose slippery bud
Swims in a pool of sweet viscous soup
That cradles any self ‚ respecting oyster
While it kicks back in its hard house
Listening to brahms
Massaging itís oyster temples
And whispering its foetal fishy blues,
Composed in the unconscious knowledge
That like every Buddha-to-be
She will be prised from her home
And forced to roam
In the hinterlands
The never Neverlands
The winterlands
Beyond her pearly aquiescence.
The clitoris of foods
Contained within a womb
The pearl of dizzy afro acts
Encased in an aquatic catacomb
Until released
Unto the feast


foreplay is foretaste
Salivation at appending consummation
The preparation
A blade gently prises away her clothes
Teasing, undressing
Encouraging shy flesh
Which blushes at thought of exposure
How can I tell you
that you look so much better in the nude?
Her purity of sound is a baseline
Untainted by the breaks and snares
Of the shells she wears
Suddenly unrestricted
Her sweet and tender
Is revealed
And pulses race
Blood rushes to the face
of any decent mortal
at the sight of this sinful and delicate morsel.

How sweet you look on a bed of ice
Forsooth, my lady, revealed is my vice
You translucent bust has incited my lust
And so, my dear, please name your price

Human lips meet oyster hips
In an orgiastic embrace
that very moment
when slippery sensation
slides down the sides of the throat
Into the belly of a whale slips our heroine
Whereupon she comes across a tall man
Dressed in black
Who mirrors her every oyster (slurp)


Oceans implode within

Neptune beckons in a fleeting pauseÖ

and then aftertaste
the lingering satisfaction
a dark salty question mark
is left upon the tongue
the impression of an erotic dream
the knowledge of journeys across forbidden seasÖ

Serve with a sauce
whose inherent force
is one that graces
the spaces
left between the lines
of our innocent babes
whose lack of spines
hint at the shakti
that would grace their shiva
the ointment to anoint
and dispel their fever of loneliness
their unaccompanied silence
but Beware!
Any brash strokes applied to this delicate blossom
Would be tantamount to an insensitive act of brutality.
Instead, we recommend a gentle heat
Reflexology for oyster feet
Acupuncture where needles are those
Of gentle yet effective fire
Yang to our squishy foetal yin
And so to parent
Our sacrament
A mother for our new born lover
Whose delicate flame
Bears the name of Kwannon
Goddess of compassion
Lotus dweller
Warmth for the hara
Married to the
Little man root
horn of ginger
male aspect in affinity
to this unholy trinity
the birth of a feast
the herald of an orgy
contained within the body
a meditation accompanied by a suitable mantraÖ


The Sun in her tangles

A mermaids perm
sealed in a vacuum pack
medusaís snakes
warm water
to return to a more forgiving state
neptuneís daughter
we constellate
and aaaah
feel her relief
as she slides
into familiar territory
breathes again
her tangles
free to waver in a solution
more forgiving to her needs
and encumbent to her desires
Oh dear, dear air, youíre such an ass!
I require liquid, and youíre just a gas!
She sighs with relief
Returning to her roots
This inky blacknuss
This inky blacknuss
Brittleness subsides
Her girth fattens and expandsÖ

Meanwhile the sun is extracted
Set free from delicate shells
Which hint at the treasures withinÖ
the act of seperation
is a delicate act
requiring a midwife
to help gravity coax
placenta away
freeing suns
See how Mari de Koko
Births new worlds
Creates universes
As she helps our suns to breathe
Welcoming them into existence
Feeding them with love.

Oh koko
De mari
How Iíd like to see you
Dressed in a sari
Distributing love;
You are the queen
Of unseen worlds
Forgotten lands
I am a noblemanís manicured hand
Will you be my velvet glove?

Onto the flame are our mermaidís locks
Moisture evaporates

Knobs of butter melt and slip onto the softened asparagus tip
Which murmurs is appreciation of this creamy
Dreamy sensation

Our mermaids tangles are arranged into nests
after delicate frying
into the nests
pour a single sun
which cooks in the heat
of his hirsute bedroom suite
the heart of a quail
to be impaled
with neptuneís softened spears
weeping buttery tears
as if pained by china
for they yearn to be touched
to be tasted
by palate
or tongue Cherry Lips bearing Creamy Kisses hide Truffleís Deep Wet Tongue

Each ingredient, like each human being, has its soul.
The preparation of each ingredient should be honoured in a way that befits its unique nature. To encourage a cherry tomato to sing its bright and blushing boogie-woogie, one applies a completely different technique than one required to release the sweet and creamy minuet of mozarella

A true master will be able to discern the soul of an ingredient and prepare it accordingly, so as to entice its nature into being.
Furthermore, a recipe may call for an ingredient to be cut or sliced in a particular way, so that the characteristics of said vegetable are introduced and maintained in a manner that does not either overbear or subtract from the themes or notes that the chef wishes to convey. By diversifying the forms and sizes of ingredients, like cutting them into shapes according to different color and taste in the meal, one can adopt a rhythm in the meals that he creates. This kind of composing work is just like painting a picture.
Please study these subtle changes - it is an endless practice. . . .
chefs must continue to be moved by the beauty of their own creation.
The food itself has to be beautiful.
Food should take the maker and the observer by full graspÖ
Individual meals must be in harmony with the dish that comes before and after them. Such factors like agreeing tastes, strong or light flavors, and temperature of individual meals are considerable in a serving pattern because too sharp a contrast or no variation at all in the menu can spoil the whole course.

Playing with knives

A knife to a chef is his primary tool, and one may always judge the quality of a chef by the state of his blade. Knife techniques are as varied as foodstuffs themselves, but a few basics can be observed that will help any amateur chef on his path to excellence. Hold the knife gently in the palm of your writing hand, with your thumb resting upon the spine of the handle, and your index finger on the other side. Curl your index finger slightly, and grasp the blade firmly. Use your free hand to hold the food in place, Use the flat side of the blade alongside the first knuckles of your free hand, and as you slice or chop, slide your free hand along to guide the blade and keep it vertical. Try not to wiggle the blade while cutting. Use a firm downward and slightly forward motion.

take care, when cooking, the food is not crushed by the angle of the bladeÖ

Add a pair of wings
to a pepper pod, you would
make a dragonfly.
ó Basho

The truffle tongue

Who shall vaunt praises to the truffle,
master of the art of seduction?
Which beast among us will not succumb
to the advances
Of this tuber terrible?

Who when imbued
Produces pleasure beyond measure
Strength beyond Samson
And erotic dreams
that tug at the seams
Of silken dresses
With telluric caresses
And earthen whispers
from the creamy mouth of Pan?

Innocuous in appearance
and yet whose lusty charms
Enfold around unsuspecting taste buds
like darkness around duskÖ

the kiss at first tender
a slender hint, a feather of tang
a diamond edged glint
throws a slight, slender hint
to the plunge of the blade,
the sink of the fang
the violence of the truffle tongue
that penetrates your intimate
and saturates your will to resist
Fall into the arms
of the truffleís handsome charms
A fungus
Whose tantara
Is a tango with tantra
A soma
imbued with infernoís aroma.

Welcome to the playground
of midnightís friend
where elegant voyeurs
wrapped in velveteen throws
and knee length calfskin boots
sip from champagne flutes
blowing kisses that engulf you
in a mist of disarray
Your nostrils flare
You stretch and yawn
Animal instincts thrice reborn
Your growl and purr
Your skin becomes fur
The pearls of sweat that form on your brow
Crystallise into a bejewelled tiara
The transformation is complete;
ëohímyí, says the truffle,
ëyou do look sweetÖ
ëcome sit here on my lap, pretty thing,
ëand tell me all your secretsÖí

Herbaceous Tentacular

The kiss of a brush
The flourish of a baton through the air
Creates swells and storms
Which swallow players
Bent to the will
The wave of a wizardís hand

The chef weaves her magic
in similar strokes
ingredients swoon
under the spell
of her knife and her spoon
flavours impart of their soul
giving way 5to a whole
which only exists
in the future filled vistas
plucked from the imagination
of our intrepid alchemist

tastes are streams
which flow into a river
whose path is carved
with a stainless steel blade
the river leads unto an ocean
which our magician stirs
and watches with a steady eye
inhaling the flavours
which rise toward sky
a pinch of..
a sprinkle ofÖ

the cooling nature of these herbs
can be sensed through its sounds
walks through long grass at dawn
webs made pearlescent through dewy kisses
a light relief after tasteís
rape by truffle
a balm for the wound
a calm follows storm
a love letter found
on the shores of sobriety
held within a soft
and tender
which sings of depths unknown

Sealed with a kiss
A tentacular kiss
Tied with sea string
A green salt kimono
To hide the flash
The flesh
The flush
The rush
Of this emotional
Aquatic lush

This is no recipe
It is pure alchemistry
The product of an imbalanced mind.

Hair of the Fish

holy trinity
proof of divinity
sweet juicy quavers plucked out of the air
Strung together in composition
Delectable dishes
Wishes upon stars
A mouthful of perfectly cooked risotto
Could wipe away decades of pain in an instant
A quailís egg born to an arame nest
Is an act of creation
Which does more for evolution
Than a thousand Da Vinciís
A million michelangeloís
For taste
Sharp bitter
Sweet creamy
Fresh tart
Is what sets us apart
From an animal heart
The day we learnt to differentiate
Between salad and meat
Our heart skipped a beat
And we learnt to see colour.

From the moment
the morsel
enters the mouth
aroma and perfume combine with taste
to saturate the sensation,
provoking first feelings
and then thoughts
cogitation induces meditation
as the bite passes
down the throat
one savors the lingering after-effects
as the symphony
slowly fades away.

It is only in eating that we conduct ourselves knowing that what we do prolongs life, and brings pleasure, moreover acting as a soothing remedy to the suffering of existence.

Vanilla Clouds on a Summer Fruit spread

Soft exploding segments released from pithy skins.
Grapefruit screams
Peach slips off velvet jacket
Tender flesh
Juice which stains double a hands
Juice which runs down double a fingers
Filling crevasses with peachy juice
Pulpy nectar
Of gods
of gods
I canít bear these fruits
taking off their clothes
it makes my mouth water
it makes my panties wet
these parting shots of summer
so sweet and full of sex

how can I grace you?
With what can I lace you?

Whisk, whisk
Till whites are fluffy
Fluffy decadent peaks
Of a sugary mountain range
Creamy cloud pie struck by moonlight
pure vanilla
Vaudeville rebel
crawling in bellies
of tropical jungles

I want some
Sugar in my bowl

Each course tempered
A world unto itself
And yet when seen as a whole
An unfolding universe
Whose mysteries hold no bounds
Whose delights have no edge
In whose folds can be found
The secret aroma
The heavenly scent
Of what can be born
And yet never die
Whose magnitude must forever multiply
Alchemy slivered in serpents tongues
For it was an apple
Whose bite
Brought the dark with the light
It was taste that brought haste to our peril and plight

And thus within each meal
A microcosm of the whole
A mirror of our very soul
As it journeys from starter to sweet
A dinner for sinners
the meal is complete.