A choreographed dining experiment where
the diner becomes the performer.
What if your fork was a compass?
What if your body—mouth, hands, knees—became the utensil?
What if a meal could choreograph movement instead of simply satisfying hunger?

“The Body That Eats” was a multi-sensory eating experience envisioned by Lithuanian food choreographer Tauras Stalnionis, in collaboration with Project Otenga. Held in an intimate setting, the experience used food to orchestrate movement, turning diners into performers and the restaurant into a kinetic stage.
The premise was simple: the act of eating is already a performance. From gestures to postures, every bite involves a body in motion. What happens when we design for that motion—when each course doesn’t just delight the palate, but activates a new part of the body?
The Experience
The evening unfolded through a 5-course tasting menu, each dish intentionally crafted to engage a different physical gesture or movement—from facial expressions and hand swings to walking, untying, and bending. Inspired in part by the rhythm and ingenuity of Indian street food vendors, the design challenged the default rules of dining. Plates became props. Cutlery became provocations. And the audience became the story.
Menus were handed out in the form of small zines, written in haiku, gently guiding participants through the experience with minimal language and maximum metaphor.
The scenography transformed the restaurant’s interior into a landscape—ingredients scattered across the space, edible objects hidden in plain sight, tables repositioned as zones of interaction. Diners navigated the room with curiosity and surprise, their movements choreographed by the shape and design of what they consumed.




Selected Courses
Mouth
Bite-sized samosas with hidden fillings (sweet, tangy, spicy) wrapped in paan leaves. Diners chewed in silence, trying to decode and communicate flavours solely through facial expressions.
Arms
A hot runny sauce sealed inside an ice cream cone, topped with a stone. Diners lifted it overhead, bit through the bottom, and sucked the sauce down—a nod to inversion and awkward delight.
Legs
A disassembled dish of vegetables and rice balls scattered across the space. To collect them, diners walked, triggering ankle bells (ghungroos) that made each step audible. Cutlery infused with spice added surprise to each bite.
Fingers
A fruit salad packed in a pitta bread pouch, wrapped with perfumed knots. Unwrapping the knots scented the fingers with rose, turning touch and scent into edible memory.
Back
A cold rasam served in sealed jars buried in potted soil. Diners bent down, pierced the seal with a straw, and drank directly from the jars—a gesture of surrender and reorientation.



What It Left Behind
Through choreographed consumption, the event made visible the invisible: the subtle ways design shapes our behavior, the gestures embedded in our habits, and the performance nested in every plate. It asked:
What happens when food stops being passive—and begins to direct the eater?
Can a meal make you move—and reflect—differently?
With just 25 guests, the gathering offered an intimate yet radical reframing of the dinner table—where bodies ate, moved, sensed, and spoke in ways beyond language.

