I think it was quite some time ago that my husband gifted me a copy of Melanie Dunea’s “My Last Supper”. By size it’s big enough to be a coffee table book, and the interviews and photographs within the book of some of the most renowned (and my most favorite!) chefs are inspiring and thought-provoking. The summary of the book is as follows:
“If you were going to die tomorrow, what would you want for your last meal on earth? An insiders pastime that is probably as old and as widespread as the professional kitchen itself, the “My Last Supper” game is a favorite among chefs… It is impossible to open My Last Supper without feeling connected to the importance of how and with what we nourish ourselves, the significance of those with whom we break bread, and what it all says about who we are”
Last week, one of my friends, in an effort to break up the negative news cycle on Facebook, played a similar game to engage his friends — one of those “if you were on a desert island…” sorts of games, and it inspired me to write a post and engage my readers on the question of “My Last Supper”. Play along if you will – link back on your own blog, or simply respond in the comments below.
1. What would be your last meal on earth? Like Jacques Pepin, my last meal on earth would be so large that it would necessitate carrying on for years and years. I would have lobster from Gosman’s Fish Market, fresh off the trawler, with drawn butter and Smash Fries from Smashburger. The best salted butter served with roasted garlic and fresh baguettes would abound. My favorite roasted pork noodle soup from Wonton Garden in NYC, and rainbow cookies and Cannoli from Ferrara’s, also in NYC would be quickly and often consumed. We would be served the finest, most chicken-y roasted chicken with seasoned crispy skin served with perfectly roasted Yukon Gold potatoes with duck fat, rosemary, and garlic. I would have fantastic brick oven pizza with an arugula salad lightly dressed in lemon juice, olive oil, and parmeggiano reggiano. I would have a wheel of garlic and herb brie served next to imported Prosciutto di Parma, thinly sliced and piled high. We would scoop it up with our fingers, or with the lovely baguettes. There would be Angel Food Cake served with warmed, in-season apricots. The freshest and most flavorful lox with NYC bagels and cream cheese would be served, and there would be crumb cake from Glendale Bakery (which my dad would undoubtedly get up early to pick up for us). The Waffluv Truck would be there, and I would have a Cinnaluv waffle with cream. Delightful perfectly cooked and rendered duck breasts would be served. A perfect Sole Meuniere, freshly caught. Sour pickles from Ben’s Delicatessen would grace every table. A wide assortment of olives, although I love the marinated olives from Caputos. A perfectly cooked steak from Copper Kitchen. The Market Street Salad from Market Street Grill. A sous vide Ostrich fan would be served. Rahm Schnitzel with fresh spaetzel. Amaretto Fudge from Fudge ‘n’ Stuff. Lamb Kabob with Rice and Hummus from Moby Dick’s House of Kabob in DC.
2. What would be the setting for the meal? On the beach in Montauk in the late summer. Lots of citronella candles would keep the bugs at bay.
3. What would you drink with your meal? The Bastianich Vineyards “Flor” sparkling rose, and Perrine family Cote du Rhone. Oh, and Bellinis from Harry’s in Venice to make up for the one I never had when we were there.
4. Would there be music? My entire Spotify account would be rotated through.
5. Who would be your dining companions? My family, my two dogs Rocky and Adrian, and my cat Linus would be there throughout. All of my friends (IRL and Internet alike!) would stop in throughout the event. Chefs that I have never met but always wanted to meet would stop in and shoot the shit about great food.
6. Who would prepare the meal? As Jacques Pepin also said “we would cook, drink, and eat together until the end… when I would die from the ‘péché de gourmandise’ (sin of gluttony)!”