My Last Supper

One of my favorite authors compelled me to think about what I would want to injest for my very last meal, if I knew I were to leave the earth imminently. Who knew that would be such a difficult thing to figure out?

I’m pretty confident that if my friends and family were answering this for me they would probably say ‘get that woman a trente tazo chai as well as a peach green tea lemonade, light ice, half sweet. Get her some Swedish berries and some potatoe chips, a doughnut, and a Starbucks snowman cookie. Some New York french fries and some french macarons. Make her a batch of potatoes in every format and pick up a loaf of apricot fruit bread from Cobbs. And popcorn….make it a refillable, layered butter, exlarge please.’ Oh… and homemade cinnamon buns with maple frosting, hot and soft… fresh from the oven. Kill me now!

And they would clearly be on target with my regular comfort food and cravings. But if it’s my very last meal to savor, what taste do I want left in my mouth and what emotions do I want to evoke? Let’s face it, all eating is emotional on some level. Even the ‘not eating it’ is emotional.

I’d like to start off with cocktails and appetizers. I drink wine but I don’t drink it because I crave it, I rather do it for social reasons and it makes me feel sophisticated and mature which I rarely feel even though I’m 60. I have to say my absolute favorite wine would be a sparkling sweet rose’. I’m not a sommelier I just like what I like. But my beverage of choice would be the discontinued green coffee carbonated refreshers from Starbucks. They had a little bite to them due to the green coffee and they were so excellently refreshing without being too sickenly sweet. I first discovered them on our first trip to Hawaii and even now when I drink one (even though I haven’t because I can’t get them anymore) I am subconsciously sitting on my favorite beach on the big island gazing at the rainbow hue of blue on the water, feeling the heat on my skin and listening to waves crash against the beach shore and that ice cold bitter refreshing liquid is making its way to my sweet spot. A close runner up would be the Pellegrino sparkling fruit drinks. And for appys you could give me spiced, tomatoey bruschetta on crusty baguette slices and taco chips with homemade cilantro-y guacamole. A few lovely water chestnuts wrapped in bacon wouldn’t be rejected either.

Now for the pie’ce de re’sistance. Salmon and risotto is lovely and smooth. Picnic essentials of fried chicken and potatoe salad are taunting. Pizza can be tempting and thoroughly enjoyed. Pesto chicken and mashed potatoes are contenders. Our familys traditional corn pudding is nostalgic and a fresh flavourful healthy salad (made by someone else ) is always appreciated but what I really want clinging to my tastebuds at a time like this is Gordon Ramsey’s truffle parmesan fries. I could eat those til I’m sick. Hot, crunchy, thick and cheesy, each bite a taste of heaven in my mouth.  I wouldn’t share these as I don’t want to be in a rush to get my fair portion.  I just want to close my eyes and taste and chew.

And surprisingly (even to me) I would choose a thick, juicy, fully cooked, grilled sirloin hamburger layered with tomatoes, mayo, mustard, dill pickles, lettuce (no cheese please) bacon and onions, served up on a fresh homemade toasted, whole wheat bun to satisfy my bread fettish. Juice running down my chin with each incredible bite. And yes, I will want a smattering of ketchup with those fries.  I rarely order this at a restaurant because it’s not really ladylike or genteel and I dont want to look like a pig. There, I said it. But it’s always what I truly want. If that’s wrong, I don’t want to be right.

If I happen to have any room left whatsoever, I would indulge in my favorite of favorites, homemade peach or cherry pie (fruit pie is my dessert weakness), made with 100% butter pastry accompanied by creamy homemade vanilla ice cream. Each icy, sweet bite savoured and blissfully enjoyed as my cholesterol spikes to an all time high. But what do I care? It’s my last supper.

One of the Italian Markets soft, gooey, chocolately croissants smothered in toasted almonds would be a gratifying send off as well.  OMG

Send me away with a half dozen Werthers chewy caramel toffees in my pocket for the trip and I depart feeling I have been blessed with the ultimate culinary feast and experience.

Why am I so hungry all of a sudden? My lips are smacking. Was that a drop of drool? Let’s just say my last supper has nothing to do with the Whole 30.