Sex on a Plate

19 Aug 2009, Posted by Jennifer Iannolo in food, sensuality

If you happen to follow my Twitter activities, you may have noticed that I’ve begun a regular thing called #sexonaplate. (That little number sign is called a hash tag, and creates a Twitter stream of people’s tweets on a given subject when they add the tag.)

The original “sex on a plate” quote comes from my first manifesto, On Food and Sensuality, written in 2004 when I discovered that the pre-consumption sight and/or smell of certain foods evokes a visceral reaction in me that is so sensually satisfying, the eating is almost an afterthought. Almost.

So now I’m asking what evokes that reaction in you. What makes you swoon? Sigh? Tremble? Drool?

I do have an ulterior motive here, which has become my life’s work: I want you to eat better food and have better sex. They go together, you see.

My second manifesto is in the anthology Food & Philosophy: Eat, Think and Be Merry. My essay Food and Sensuality: A Perfect Pairing takes the premise quite a few steps further, delving into comparisons of cheap porn and bad television cooking shows — and explaining why neither is truly satisfying.

The conclusion of both manifestos, however, remains the same: Life is more satisfying when it is accompanied by sensual indulgence that is felt all the way down into the soul. It makes colors more vivid, tastes more satisfying, and lovemaking more fulfilling. It takes what might have become a daily routine and spices it up in a way that makes one feel more alive simply for being here and witnessing what is present for the senses to enjoy. If you’ve ever bathed in the scent of lavender, I think you know exactly what I mean.

But I cannot embark upon this mission alone. Indulgence is better when shared — and I would love for us to experience it together. How do we do that? Well, for starters, we need to talk about it. The conversation on Twitter is coming along nicely, and that is one spot — but there are others. Talk to me on Facebook. Leave comments here. Sniff basil leaves. Dip a piece of bread in truffle oil and inhale deeply.

Then share the experience — let somebody in on the secret.

Photo: Kelly Cline