Would you have oysters for your last meal? Photo / Getty Images
Would you have oysters for your last meal? Photo / Getty Images
If you could choose your last meal on Earth, what would it be? A gourmet pig-out? A sentimental favourite? Paul Little asked eight people with a variety of food connections to tell us what they’d have for their last suppers.
TONY ASTLE
Founder and chef of Antoine's since 1973
I'd want to start with three freshly shucked, jumbo Glory Bay oysters. They're farmed and are three times the size of a Bluff, although they are the same species. I'd have them with Beluga caviar - you can buy it farmed now, and it's not illegal. I'd want a Louis Roederer Cristal Champagne 1988 with that.
Then fresh foie gras - goose liver - lightly seared, with caramelised pear. That's totally banned, of course, but I've been to a farm in France where they're farming it. It's so rich but the acidity of the pear cuts into that. I can eat so much of it. I'm like the geese, I've got no gagging device. Wine match: Condrieu La Doriane.
I'd follow with steak tartare. I don't eat cooked meat much but steak tartare is great if it's fresh and the right cut. And with it, a Romanee-Conti DRC 1978. I wouldn't bother with vegetables. I'm not into them much.
To finish, Casu Marzu, which is a putrid cheese with live maggots, accompanied with a Chateau d'Yquem 1975 or 1959. We were guests of Mumms in France when we started Antoine's and sold more of their champagne than anyone else. They took us to a restaurant and when they took the lid off this cheese, the maggots on it were turning over. I thought, "I can do this," but it was very acid. I could feel them moving in my throat. I don't think you can buy it here.
NIKI BEZZANT
Weekend Herald food columnist and nutrition writer
Sashimi. Photo / Getty Images
I would go back to basics and have small courses of lots of things I love to eat - like a greatest hits. And beautiful champagne with all of it.
I'd start with crunchy, salty potato chips, then a beautiful fresh sashimi platter. Sashimi is a flavour and texture thing, with salty soy and sharpness from the wasabi.
Then my favourite comfort meal, which is roast chicken with some crispy roasted vegetables and gravy. There are lots of chef meals you could have, but when it comes down to what you want to eat it's the simple things. I'd have to have some pasta in there - something simple with some chilli. And I'd have pinot noir with the chicken and pasta.
I don't have a big sweet tooth, so I'd have some cheese - a perfect parmesan and a creamy blue or a soft goat's cheese. And if I still had room, a little chocolate thing and a cup of tea.
I wouldn't be too worried about getting my veg, although I would have a simple salad with sharp dressing with the chicken. But it's not a health meal, it's a pleasure meal.
LISA ER
Creator of Lisa's Hummus, which she sold in 2002, and founder of The Awareness Party
Safood chowder with crusty bread. Photo / Getty Images
This question made me think of the ads with the prisoner's last request for a Pixie Caramel, "the longer-lasting chew".
I like food made with organic local ingredients because of food miles and the impact on the environment. Even for my last meal I'd want to bear that in mind.
I'm normally gluten and dairy intolerant, so on this occasion I'd have crusty bread and seafood chowder. Then Bluff salmon cooked with local Village Press olive oil along with capers and lemon juice and then roast vegetables - potato, kumara, parsnips, beetroot and carrots. And steamed baby spinach with lemon juice.
For dessert, I'd like lemon meringue pie made with organic free-range eggs and some Kohu Rd coconut icecream.
Finally, a Curio Bay pecorino sheep's milk cheese. And if I wasn't going dairy-free, I'd have a Stilton and a Gouda.
I'm not a wine expert but I'd have a local Babich 2014 organic pinot noir.
And all of that can be sourced locally, except for the capers.
PROFESSOR ROD JACKSON
Cardiovascular disease epidemiologist at the University of Auckland
A classic pav - with lots of cream. Photo / Getty Images
I'd eat stuff that I hardly ever eat now - that I like the taste of but know is bad for me. It would take me back to the 60s (the peak of the heart disease epidemic) and it would have a lot of butter and other saturated fat in it.
I'd start with some nice French bread, smothered in butter.
In terms of other saturated fat, my mother had a large Wattie's peach can next to the stove and all the fat from the roast and chops went into it. If you did any frying you'd use a dollop of that fat. For more fancy frying, we used butter. There was no olive oil back then.
For the main, there'd be a range of potatoes -certainly some Jersey bennes with butter - then I'd have roast vegetables cooked in the fat that came from the chops and roast lamb. The vegetables would just be there as a vehicle for the fat. Then I think I'd have lamb chops with all the fat on, because as a kid I remember we'd fight over the fattiest chops. And I'd probably pile on the salt.
Dessert would have to be pavlova, with lots of cream. Obviously, I'd have real Champagne, but I have that anyway, though not every night.
COURTNEY RUPE
Part-owner and floor manager, Augustus Bistro
A big glass of chardonnay. Photo / Getty Images
I'd go with a really good seafood feast. I'd have Bluff oysters, and, because I grew up in Australia, we'd have a bucket of Australian prawns. I'd throw some tuatua on the barbecue with chives and butter. I'm lucky to have friends who go marlin fishing and always drop off some smoked marlin, that I'd have on crackers with mayo and wasabi.
The sweet to finish would be my glass of wine - something really full-on, like the Man o' War Valhalla chardonnay.
We have the prawns, oysters and tuatua on the menu at Augustus, but the smoked marlin is definitely something that is between friends.
I'm a patron of Hospice, so I do sometimes see what people want near the end. There was one woman who talked about a slice but couldn't remember its name. I worked out it was called Churchill slice and was able to make it for her.
For my own meal, I have two schools of thought. One is seafood. We have great friends who are fishing people. He'll go over the side of the boat and come up with three crayfish and two dozen scallops. Those meals where the seafood is fresh are divine.
But I'm from the High Country in my previous life, and I love putting that mutton roast in the oven at 7 in the morning for a long, slow cook and eating that night. I can taste the wild thyme that the sheep's been eating in the riverbeds. You can almost shake it and the whole bone comes out. Then I make the gravy from scratch, flavoured with the last 4000 roasts that have been done in the tin. It's really natural food in its natural setting and that seems fabulous.
Then probably a sticky, gooey pud with apples or a sticky date kind of thing to finish. We don't have a fridge up here but the cream is still really cold.
MURRAY THOM
Creator of The Great New Zealand Cookbook
Fish tacos. Photo / Getty Images
The question of what I would eat comes a distant second to who I'd eat it with. It would be comfort food that brings great memories. Our go-to family meal is fish tacos, with the ingredients laid out so everybody helps themselves. I've had them five million times but that's probably what I'd do.
And every Sunday as a family we go to my mum's. It's called "Nanny's lunch" and I'd probably have my last meal at her house surrounded by family, because it's something we have done so long.
Mum is a very generous person, so there'll be three courses, whether you like it or not. There's a different soup every week, then a main and a cake - every single time. I can barely remember her doing the same Sunday lunch twice. The last one was Jamie Oliver's chicken pie.
We are like a bunch of Italians I think. We stay around the table for two or three hours.
MIKE VALINTINE
Current affairs journalist and home-cooking enthusiast
Trifle. Photo / Getty Images
I have my last meal at least twice a year, when I prepare a degustation lunch with 10 or 12 courses for friends or family.
It would always start at 11 with some lovely ripe French cheese and a Chateau d'Yquem.
I'd go for Bluff oysters after that, with a bit of tabasco and a good dry French riesling. And I know it's heretical, but I'd also hanker for a few battered oysters too.
I love soup and my favourite at this time of year is Jerusalem artichoke. Then in summer I'd have a tomato, mozzarella and basil salad.
Then a slow-cooked dish, like oxtail or confit of duck - one of those two. I'm not talking huge portions.
And it has to be enjoyed with friends, otherwise I'd probably just go for hemlock soup.
I'm not overwhelmed by desserts but I'd probably pick a chocolate fondant or even a perfectly made trifle from a childhood memory. And I'd finish with a good Cuban cigar and a Cognac, preferably in a hot bath.
I have one important last meal memory - my dear old father had cancer. I got his favourite beef on the bone with the sirloin on one side and the fillet on the other. I dug up horseradish for the sauce, which is a big family tradition, and I cooked it up for him. A tear welled in his eye as he tried to take a bite and said: "Mike, I can't eat it."
