FARZANA VERSEY delves into the history of aphrodisiacs and finds that the love-hungry bring these sensual foods to wherever they might be entertaining... the kitchen table, the bed or the living room. The Palate�s Passionplay revolves around traditional aphrodisiacs that are erotic yet elegant, like oysters, wine and asparagus... and lesser-known ones such as chillies, avocado and figs.

But take a rest because you�re on fire
Likewise how to lull the friend
That breasts, legs, womb, thighs
Stew and simmer without end?
Dear me, its playmate�s drunken bliss
Gets me up and going when
My meat rises from one kiss
Come on, we�d better start again!
- Paul Verlaine

Each time I slice okra, I feel like Lorena Bobbitt. Err... is this about food or sex? Well, do me a favour. Pick up some bhindi and, if you have an achy-breaky heart, do not plunge a knife into even one, just dunk the lot into a bowl of water. Then run your fingers over them and feel their stickiness. Now you tell me what�s my take here.

Let us not pretend. If you had a choice, you�d want to get laid on the table. But darned society! We are conditioned to be subtle. So while we delicately fork a morsel into our mouth, slick and dripping through our tongue and throat, there is a volcano waiting to erupt. I am not talking performance here, only sensuality. Aphrodisiacs you can get aplenty, from human placenta to rhino�s horn to the local palang-tod paan to Viagra but it�s like saying why bother about a moonlit night when you have electricity.

Food is sexy, often sexier than sex itself, and what you do with it lasts infinitely longer. Which is why passion�s imagery relies so much on what plays on the palate. The ancient texts used fruits and vegetables to describe the body. Marlon Brando in �The Last Tango In Paris� took a dollop of butter, slapped it on and went licking it and it was not on toast. When Meg Ryan gets this enormous orgasm in an outdoor cafe (�When Harry Met Sally�), an old woman at the next table asks the waiter rather sweetly, �I�ll have one of those!�

Umm... aah. Yes, that is a low moan, and that is the sound you make when you feel satiated, after breaking bread as well as in bed. Both food and sex make full use of our senses - the smells, the touch, the sight, the taste, the unbearable succulence of being.

AS RAW AS THEY COME

When I first got the hang of it cooking, that is - it coincided with other pangs. The simple act of chopping vegetables and fruits was like foreplay and I never did think of it as something you let the servants do. Imagine missing out on the redness of a tomato squirting in your face, the onions being unclothed endlessly, oysters in spasmodic anticipation, the asparagus erect and yet so pliable, and figs.

What do I say about figs, so firm and soft, the colour of bruised skin, gently prised open to reveal a treasure glazed with possibilities. No wonder stallions knew when they were in for a good thing. In the Vedas the fig tree is referred to as one under which the horses stand.

If you think I am going overboard you must see what Rudolf Sodamin has to say about why he was compelled to write on the subject. �Like a temptress, the concept has teased me, coquettishly calling out to me while I�m selecting fresh fruits and vegetables, or pinching the border of a pie crust...�

For him avocados are akin to �the soft curves of a woman yet also reminiscent of a man�s nether regions�, potatoes are �the testicles of the earth�, asparagus is a �fine, firm phallic symbol�, sesame treats are �exotic foreplay�. He mentions how medieval maidens �imprinted their intentions onto bread dough by pressing it against their vulva before baking�. If you are the kind who says yuck, then you�d probably find the smell of fish offensive too. Well, what do you think of women, then?

WHEN THE SIZZLE GETS TO ME

For me Bade Miyan is not the last word in good wholesome food. But it is the sensual experience that makes me go weak in the knees. Those chunks of meat on skewers set aflame on coal fire, the colour changing from a pink of desire to the brown of contentment, the smell of flesh completely submitting and then, hot, its warmth reaching the lips. I am told I am not imagining things - the scent of smoked meat directly hits the pleasure centres in the brain.

I guess that�s why men love the barbeque pit, which someone described as, �A lonely sanctuary where men, amid fire and gore, still glory in the primordial bliss, the caveman�s delight.� And they do like the meat a bit tough because, �it�s God�s reward for the effort of wresting flavour out of the roughest beast�.

You still wonder why I like men who cook? It�s not about feminism, but erotica. A man who knows what to do with his hands will know what to do with his hands.

Women in the kitchen would be far happier if they went around wearing just an apron. Plebian meals are associated with security and nourishment and one psychologist even said that soup was reminiscent of the amniotic fluid in the mother�s womb. But hang in there. Soup is for the senses, if you can watch it bubbling in the pot, redolent of spices and as you put the ladle in to stir, it clings to it for dear life like a lover asking for more. Real cooking is about messing around a bit.

THE �O� OH

So, is this all about nails, teeth, fingers and basic instincts? About egg yolks swimming in their whites, about the mango being massaged, bitten off, sucked, slivers running down the chin, about rice balls being scooped off banana leaves and rasam slurped off the arm?

Can fine dining not be a sensual experience? Of course it can, provided it is not made into a Hollywood production. If it is subtle - just the food, you and yours. There are people who can get their jollies watching white-gloved waiters do the flambe before their eyes, but that�s like going to a strip show.

For true sensuality it has to be, perhaps, French onion soup, garlic bread, Camembert dariole, the lobster playing hard to get, or asparagus full of vice under its crust, and chocolate souffle tantalising between the sheets of whipped cream. And champagne? To me, it is over-rated, though the imagery is potent enough.

But it might not take you too far. Alcohol must only be used to wet the lips. Dark and full-bodied. Or cocktails in an exciting red or as black as sin. But please, please, don�t ask me what to drink with which food. By now you must know that the only way I like my wine is when it is on me.

Wine

Behold how Bacchus, the aider and abettor of Venus, doth offer himself... let us therefore drink up this wine, that we may do utterly away with the cowardice of shame and get us the courage of pleasure,� quoted Apuleius in �Secrets of Venus�.

Alcohol has served throughout history as the basis for most love potions, masking foul tastes of bizarre ingredients. Today, fortunately, we typically rely on alcohol not for its hocus-pocus concoctions of wormwood and such, but for its innate aphrodisiacal powers alone.

After a mere drink or two, it lowers inhibitions and allows people to do what they only fantasised as a possibility just one hour before. Whether sipping margaritas on the beach, savouring a glass of Merlot with some Camembert, or shooting body shots in a game of quarters, alcohol pushes aside the doubts, fears, and mores that typically restrain people from amorous pursuits. Oh glorious alcohol! It transforms the could�ve beens into reality. Well, at least for one night.

Asparagus

These stately stalks first received their aphrodisiac status from the Doctrine of Signatures. Also known as the Law of Similarities, this theory says that if one thing looks or is reminiscent of another, then it will improve or aid that which it looks like. So if food looks sexual, then the Doctrine of Signatures says it is meant to improve or aid sex.

And, indeed, asparagus is a beautiful (albeit slender) phallic symbol. The great French lovers of yesteryear dined on three courses of it on the night before the wedding. According to Hollywood historian Diane Ackerman, the legendary lover of all lovers, Richard Burton, deemed the stalks lascivious.

Today we know that asparagus is packed with potassium, calcium and Vitamin E and offers te love-hungry extra energy, a well-working urinary tract and kidneys, and a natural dose of the �sex vitamin� necessary for hormone production.

Avocado

Once again, the Doctrine of Signatures is working in full force here. The modest avocado, with its bumpy, often lizard-like skin, peels away to reveal a creamy, natural butter. Cut in half, the pear-shaped symmetry of the avocado mimics the soft, buttery curves of a woman. A striking green that earned its own name in a box of crayons, the meat of the avocado gives under the pressure of a finger and melts on the tongue in a taste all its own.

In the Aztec culture, avocados were called ahuacatl (testicle) and deemed so powerful that they forbade village maidens to set one virginal toe outside the house while the fruit was being gathered. Today, avocados run the gamut of dishes and cuisines and, more importantly, virgins now have easy access to this forbidden fruit. The avacado is not just for guacamole anymore.

Chillies

Long believed to house a complete arsenal of aphrodisiac powers, the chilli pepper makes a strong statement to all who taste of its flesh. With more than 200 varieties worldwide, chillies seem to have as many options for heating things up as clever lovers do.

There�s the firecracker hot of the tiny red-orange pequin that explodes in the mouth with the first bite. The heated sweet of the wrinkled pepperoncini. The delayed fireball of the dark brown chilaca that lurks behind other flavours until it�s ready to take charge. The gently pleasing spice of the slender, green Anaheim.

Dr. John Harvey Kellogg, inventor of Corn Flakes and founder of Kellogg cereal company. knew what he was talking when he advised nymphomaniacs to stay away from the peppers. Eating peppers gets the blood rushing, the heart pumping, the face flushing, and the pores sweating - all reactions strangely familiar to what one can experience with anything from a good night kiss at the front door to a heated quickie during the lunch hour.

Oysters

Perhaps the greatest of all aphrodisiacs, the oyster symbolises virility and passion for all who indulge. From Petronius to Casanova, oysters have unleashed their powers of seduction on unwitting prey and restored life to lagging libidos.

The oyster�s powers are best experienced when eaten on the half shell. In this state, the oyster is most reminiscent of key body parts, officially qualifying it as an aphrodisiac. Some see the closed shell as the male testes, while others see the fresh oyster itself as better representation.

But few can debate the beauty (or implication) of the oyster resting in its half shell, nether petals of pink and grey fluttering out from the meat onto a pearly white backdrop. If the sheer visual effects of the oyster do not suffice, then consider the oyster�s nutritional benefits to the human body: oysters are low in fat, high in complex sugars and proteins. More importantly, though, oysters are loaded with zinc, a key ingredient to testosterone production and, hence, sexual performance for both genders.

Figs

If you�ve never had a fig before, it will not - cannot - taste, smell, look or feel as you imagined it would - because a ripe fig tastes sweeter than any dried nugget of trail-mix fig, and a plump one smells gentler than any hyper-syruped cannd version. A small, pear-shaped delicacy, its skin ranges from a soft white to a purpley-black, its flesh from a yellowish-pink to a vibrant pinkish-red.

And its feel, oh its feel. A knife slices through the fruit like soft butter. The tiny, edible seeds seem unending, weaving layer upon layer of texture and flavour within the succulent fig. All ridges work inwards to a core, painting a relief portrait of the soft world of the inner thighs. When you eat a fig, you are eating history, Cleopatra, Dionysian orgies, the Roman Saturnalia. And when its juice runs over your tongue, you are drinking pure, unadulterated sensuality.