Our dinners are phone-free, utensil-free, and sensory-altering.

Our dinners are incubator spaces for psychological "rapid prototyping" - a guest house for experimentation and exploration.


We eat to remember. We eat to forget. 

Food is a vehicle we use to transport our feelings and we are often unaware of how closely connected food is with emotion, body is with heart. 

Momentary was conceived from the deep conviction that food has always been the gathering place for the consolation of body and soul. With food and our bodies rooting us, we might find ourselves more able to allow mind, spirit and heart to soar - knowing that, if afraid, we can always return to our trusted corporeal comforts. 


Our physical or outer senses - the ability to see, touch, etc. - guide so much of our interaction with the physical world. Our emotional or inner senses do as well, particularly as we relate with others; difference is, we haven't quite developed as strong a relationship with our inner senses. Altering some of our outer senses can give the less practiced parts of us - inner senses - a chance to be seen and thus be available for transformation, which is precisely what we call emotional intelligence.

Each dining experience we provide will involve the altering of at least 1 sense. Sometimes we will dine in the dark without vision, other times we may dine in complete silence without speech or hearing; all of our programs point to this: we learn to communicate in creative ways when our old ways are no longer available to us.


Inherent in the act of eating, not unlike the act of sex, is dirtiness and messiness - a specific type of messiness tempered by our individual tolerance for imperfection and perversion. 

The trend seems to be that the older we become the less accepting we can be of messiness, or perhaps, public displays of messiness. Behind closed doors, we may act in starkly different ways. Sheathed in concealment and privacy, we allow ourselves to engage in behaviors that might otherwise fill us with shame if there were witnesses. 

And that is how we learn to keep our imperfections out of sight - not allowing ourselves to be fully seen.

Eating and sex are not designed for civility, although they can be quite so. If all things uncivil must be concealed in shame and we aren't able to come out of hiding in acts of intimacy and nourishment, how does that affect our psyches, hearts, souls? 

All of our dinners are utensil-free in the spirit of honoring messiness and loving the parts of us that don't feel as put together.