So it was cocktail night on Friday. To be fair, every Friday is cocktail night. Elderflower martini, if you were wondering.
Moules et frites were on the menu, along with a little Antony Bourdain on the tv – we rock it HARD on a Friday. If you haven’t read Kitchen Confidential, you should. Assuming, of course, you never want to eat in a restaurant ever again.
Anyway, he was in the UK. Close to my heart. Slurping up bone marrow and claiming it to be his ‘current death row meal’. (Btw, I think this show was made in 2006.)
This comment prompted a conversation.
‘What would you have for your last meal, Mr Eleanor? Pizza, curry or steak?’
The answer was, of course, a curried steak pizza with chips on top. You can take the boy out of Slough, but …
Here, I fumbled. My mistake.
‘Ok, Mr Eleanor,’ I said, ‘what would *I* have for my last meal?
‘Er …. er …. lobster? Doughnuts? Cos, you know, it’s your last meal, and who cares?’
Lobster and doughntuts? Well, I suppose it has a certain je ne sais quoi. But, for reference, my last meal would be:
- Salt and pepper calamari with papaya salad
- Truffled mushroom risotto
- Lemon tart with mascarpone
And then perhaps coffee liqueur with some mini doughnuts. I’ll give him that one.
Or at least, that’s what it would be today. Tomorrow? Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve already realised I missed out pork belly – my menu nemesis. The ONE thing I can’t go past …
So, what would your last meal be? The last thing you’d ever get to taste? Go on. Tell me.