I read an interesting and evocative column by food critic Jay Rayner, about Last Suppers. Not only his idea of what he would really want for his own last supper, but the concept of last suppers. He was most concerned to be in good company, during his final meal. And he's right, it should be about who you are with as much as the food.
I'd be with the family, all of them, from parents and husbands to adopted sisters and step-second-cousins-once-removed, all gathered together at the same time, in the same place, for once. Adults nattering and drinking and catching up because some of them haven't seen each other for years. Teenagers sharing selfies and apps, children racing around the tables with cousins they hardly ever see, babe's being nursed, or bottle fed or whatever comes naturally.
Everyone could have whatever they wanted to eat and drink, from a gigantic buffet satisfying everyone from carnivores, vegetarians, pescetarians, fruitarians and vegans to insectivores, if there are any! There can be wine, beer, spirits, juices, tea, coffee and even those vile branded colas whose name I refuse to mention, for the kids.
I'd eat a perfectly cooked baked potato, made with a large desiree spud, with crispy, very slightly charred skin and soft but not mushy interior, split open and filled with a mound of butter, a large wedge of ripe brie and sprinkled with salt, black pepper and fresh grated nutmeg. There'd be a side salad of fresh watercress. I'd follow it with the world's best, most chocolatey chocolate mouse and a huge bowl of ripe, dark cherries. Everything washed down with a bottle or two of Farnese Montipulciano D'Abruzzo.
Hmm. Think I'll start now, by sending the invitations. If I don't die, we can all do it again next year!
https://www.theguardian.com/food/2019/aug/25/one-foot-in-the-gravy-jay-rayners-last-supper
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