Lately there's been a bunch of YouTube videos of celebrities talking about what they want their final meal to be. One meal is too limited. If I'm going to die before breakfast the next morning, then I need to binge—food and drink—all day long. It's going to be a Rabelaisian affair.
The day will begin with a Bloody Mary (heavy on the hot sauce and horseradish), coffee and OJ on the side. There will be two breakfasts, but no pancakes and French toast. I'm going for protein. An omelet filled with crème fraiche, avocados, and cold-smoked Nova Scotia salmon, sprinkled with chives. The sides: dry-cured bacon, hash browns with onions and jalapeno peppers seasoned with chili powder, cumin, oregano, salt and pepper, and a Carta Blanca beer from Mexico. This is the exact same breakfast I cook every Sunday morning, although the omelet fillings vary.
Next, a classic Japanese breakfast. Grilled fish, miso soup, steamed white rice, and tsukemono (assorted Japanese pickles). Its lightness is perfect after the indulgence of the first breakfast. Accompanying beverages: green tea and Ebisu beer.
Around 11 a.m., a pre-lunch snack would be a taqueria or taco truck for some Mexican surf ‘n’ turf. Two tacos made with fresh (very important) corn tortillas: one “al pastor”—marinated pork, pineapple, dried chilis—the other a grilled fish (snapper) taco with cabbage, mango salsa, and a squeeze of lime.
Before, as a famous dark poet once put it, “the fever dream called living is conquered at last,” I'll need a hamburger. A bunch of the celebs choosing their last meal add an In-N-Out Burger to it. I've always wanted to try one, so that's what I'm getting for lunch. Make it a “Double-Double, Animal Style,” with mustard grilled into the patties and caramelized onions.
A hot dog too. It's an engineered salt, fat, and umami vehicle. Make it a “Nathan's Finest”—only the most expensive hot dogs are worth eating—topped with chopped onions, chopped jalapeno, relish, and brown spicy mustard.
This lunch calls for fries. I'll take mine cooked in duck fat. The French know how to fry food. The beverage, like the meal, will be classic American—Budweiser in a bottle. I’ll have a plain chocolate ice cream cone for dessert, but it has to be with a sugar cone, which is dark and caramelized-tasting.
I need sushi on this big day, but don't want it for my final dinner because it doesn't go well with something I want to drink—a fine red wine. I'll have the sushi at five o’clock: 10 pieces—two each of uni (sea urchin), ōtoro (fatty tuna), saba (mackerel), ikura (salmon roe), and akagai (red clam).
Beverage: three-year-aged junmai sake.
Dinner will begin with a chilled Tío Pepe fino sherry—dry, crisp and refreshing—along with some light snacks: Marcona almonds, olives, and jamón. Then a martini, bone dry, made with Stolichnaya Elit vodka straight out of the freezer and an olive.
The seafood appetizers, paired with a Krug Grandée Cuvee Champagne, will be a dozen Kumamoto oysters served with a drop of lemon juice, an unusual amount of ossetra caviar eaten straight from a tiny spoon, and gambas al ajillo—Gulf shrimp cooked with garlic and olive oil, served in a sizzling clay dish with crusty bread. I'll have to have my favorite appetizer—beef carpaccio with mustard sauce and a squeeze of lime juice.
The seafood main course will be a deep-water snapper I discovered in Hawaii—opakapaka. The first step is to steam it for about eight minutes. Chopped green onions, ginger, cilantro, and soy sauce are then placed on top, and hot peanut oil is poured, flash-cooking and opening up the aromatics. It’s served with Moloka’i yam (purple) purée. The wine will be the Burgundy region's Montrachet Grand Cru, made from 100 percent chardonnay grapes.
The meat course has to be a steak—ribeye, but I'll skip the “tomahawk” presentation, which is all for show. Make mine a Japanese A5 Kobe ribeye, which is never dry-aged. All I need on it is some smoked salt and pepper, but I'll take a side of citrus and soy dipping sauce to cut through the fat and reset the palate. An assortment of pickled vegetables would be a nice side, adding some crunch and acid.
This luxury steak is usually served in restaurants in a maximum of six oz. portions, but I'll double that.
I'm going to save a little of my champagne for the first few bites of the steak. A bunch of people would tell me this isn’t a good pairing, but they’d be wrong. The high acidity of champagne allows it to cut through the extreme fattiness of the Kobe beef, refreshing the palate.
My main wine with the final course will be a well-aged (at least 20 years) Brunello di Montalcino. I know Italian wine better than French, Californian, and Spanish, so I'll stick with that nation for this crucial decision.
For dessert: tart tatin, a caramelized upside-down apple tart, served with vanilla ice cream. But let's add a chocolate souffle. And for the wine, a sauterne—Château d'Yquem , the greatest sweet wine in the world.
Finally, I'll repair the patio with some Stilton cheese and a bottle of Graham's 20-year-old tawny port, which pairs well with the Habano I'm going to smoke after I eat most of the cheese.
In the greatest movie about food of all time, Tampopo, a dying gangster says people see a movie of their life just before they die. I'll smoke my Cuban cigar and drink the port while waiting for that movie, hoping that whoever's in charge of these matters keeps the best parts in and edits out the bad bits. All things considered, it's been a good final day.