“I’m sure you might be wondering why I’m performing this butchery myself,” The artist spoke, dipping his knife into steaming water, “Along with the blessing of my station as owner of this fine establishment comes an unfortunately common need to delegate such acts to other chefs, and in future, I will likely be forced to defer this task,”
“However,” He paused to wipe down his carving knife with a ratty towel. “For an opening such as this, I find it quite necessary to cut more than just the ribbon in front of the entrance, and I will do my best to provide a humane butchery for you”
He began to trace the line between your torso and your arm with his finger. You were struck by the unexpected intimacy of his fingertips. He rested his knife there now as well. You anticipated the moment that he might allow it to bite into you.
“Normally we might have stunned you prior to preparation, however, I am certain that you understand the complications in your case. I hope that we have been able to sufficiently dull your senses,” He gestured to the empty bottle of wine left on the table beside you. You knew that this would have done nothing to ease your pain. He pressed down gently with his knife. You felt the blood bloom around the blade's edge, coating the tip with red. You found that you had been correct. You willed yourself not to access the pain fully.
The artist furrowed his brow, cocking his head while he opened a thin river of crimson along your joint “It’s strange, typically I might find myself thinking now of the immortality found in one’s consumption. I might have told you how your preparation as sustenance would allow you to live on alongside your predator, and with it’s predator after that or failing that, return to the earth when it itself meets its end. I would tell you how you would now have the honour to have the energy you provide be carried forth forever. However,”
He reached the end of his incision. He returned his long knife to the steaming water. Now empty-handed, he began to negotiate your arm from its socket.
You felt it all as tendon and fat was divorced from muscle and bone. He lifted your severed limb from the table and placed it gently on another surface that you could not see.
“This idea is complicated in your case,” He watched as a web of thin and brittle tendrils branched from the opening of your wound, knitting itself together into smooth white bone. “I suppose the idea of your energy continuing without you remains, even without the end of your existence as yourself. I don’t think I find this a satisfying thought to leave you with.”
He started the dismemberment again, this time taking your leg into his hands and slicing into the joining between your thigh and your hip. “I suppose a nicer thought is an appeal to the art of the process.”
He stopped speaking in order to think as he severed your leg from its socket, cleaned his tools and refocused his blade to your torso. You had seen more wretched things than any other creature alive, and yet you found yourself nauseous at the thought of what he was doing to the center of your undying body.
“I’ve heard nearly every form of art be said to be consumed, and there is a truth to that. I believe that an educated purveyor of art can consume, can take a piece into themself and let it become a part of them."
He carefully traced your insides with the tip of his thinnest and shortest blade. Once he'd fully circled some area of interest inside of you, he stilled a moment to gaze at it, almost hungrily. You thought for a moment that he might attempt to devour you before any meal has been created, until in an instant, the refined and jovial look he'd displayed before had returned.
"But food? Food is the only form of art that can be truly consumed by the masses. One need not be enlightened to art, nor even speak the language or know the culture of the artist in order to incorporate it into oneself. One only needs to open their mouth and consume.”
The artist grabbed hold of something deep within your core, pulling it from the warmth of your body. You felt a strange stillness. He held before you the pulsating heart that had carried you long before any of the words the artist spoke held meaning. He quickly removed it from your sight.
You felt as the hole left in your chest began to reconstitute into a new heart, one which could carry you until the words of the Artist no longer held meaning, and an infinite time beyond then.
Of course, you knew this new heart would not last that long. It wouldn't take much time before this process would have to repeat. Your new heart would serve it's purpose. It would bring you with it into the bodies of the masses, and into their drunken hearts. You would live there, even as your body lay inside this butchering room. You would be allowed into their drunken minds, their basest souls and instincts, and you would live there too.
@GSmitt
★★★☆☆
The location, a roman-style vineyard, was both picturesque and on-theme and I loved the Trinity board and the Sanguinaccio Dulce, but I would have appreciated a Wine choice for those of us who are slightly less committal.
SandyBD
★★★★★
Delicious and benevolent, that's how I'd describe both the menu and my new god!
JarvissBarr
★★★★★
On the Consumption of Art and God: When I first approached the installation, I didn't expect anything special, let alone a deeply interesting study of the nature of art itself…..
Read the full essay on my website.
JoebyJanby
★★★★☆
Witnessed the horrors of war, then the horrors of love, then some more general Horrors. It genuinely set my therapy progress back three years. That said, this was by far the best humanoid steak I've ever had and I will likely be returning once I've worked through it with my therapist.
★★★☆☆
Amazing decor, even heartier food. If you do go, I recommend you order "The Stupor", for your own sake.
The ThreePort Report
★☆☆☆☆
The atmosphere and service were excellent, as I've come to expect whenever we review any Ambrose venture. The decor is clearly inspired by the great ancient Mediterranean societies of Greece and Rome. Nearly every wall is either open or cloaked in ostentatious purple drapes of silk or crushed velvet, lending to the luxurious feeling in the dining area.
The servers were courteous and attempted to accommodate my wife's gluten intolerance, meaning she could not eat either of the available appetizers, through a reduced price on a larger steak as an entree. However, this resulted in her becoming violently ill.
Additionally, I feel that this restaurant relies heavily on a single gimmick, A gimmick that did not stick the landing for me, as a devout follower of WAN, I do not appreciate the……
Read the in-depth review on our website!
DWofOregano
★★☆☆☆
I found god stewed in chiles tonight.