Friends, lend me your meals
I have just been told about the BBC's 50 things to eat before you die (look, I don't have satellite, okay?) and am horrified that haggis seems to make it on to the list. I know this blog is supposedly mostly about things musical but I can tell you as a foodie: you really don't have to try it before you die. Really.
But then I thought, it was your last meal and you could have anything you wanted, anything at all, what would you order? Let me know!
Me, I would find it incredibly difficult to (a) come to terms with the fact that this is my last meal and (b) narrow down my choices. However, this would be a good final feast:
A starter of black mushrooms covered with a bacon and napoletana sauce and topped with provelone cheese and oreganum, all grilled - as I once had at a lovely restaurant called Carvers, set on a lake. Well, a lakeside, obviously - this was not a restaurant on a ship.
Coniglio al forno (baked rabbit) with sage butter and rosemary potatoes (reader, hop on a plane to Joburg and you too can have this at Assaggi in Illovo) and some lovely Tuscan red wine. Oh, and a side of deep-fried salted courgette strips in batter. God, but they're good.
(But a proper chicken Thai green curry with fragrant rice and without coriander leaves - yuck - would also do very, very well.)
Oh, what to have for dessert. One's final dessert must be something truly spectacular, surely. Got it. A standard creme brulee - not as easy to find as you'd think, mind. That's it.
And you have to have a final digestif, no? Try a double frangelico on crushed ice.
Over to you.
But then I thought, it was your last meal and you could have anything you wanted, anything at all, what would you order? Let me know!
Me, I would find it incredibly difficult to (a) come to terms with the fact that this is my last meal and (b) narrow down my choices. However, this would be a good final feast:
A starter of black mushrooms covered with a bacon and napoletana sauce and topped with provelone cheese and oreganum, all grilled - as I once had at a lovely restaurant called Carvers, set on a lake. Well, a lakeside, obviously - this was not a restaurant on a ship.
Coniglio al forno (baked rabbit) with sage butter and rosemary potatoes (reader, hop on a plane to Joburg and you too can have this at Assaggi in Illovo) and some lovely Tuscan red wine. Oh, and a side of deep-fried salted courgette strips in batter. God, but they're good.
(But a proper chicken Thai green curry with fragrant rice and without coriander leaves - yuck - would also do very, very well.)
Oh, what to have for dessert. One's final dessert must be something truly spectacular, surely. Got it. A standard creme brulee - not as easy to find as you'd think, mind. That's it.
And you have to have a final digestif, no? Try a double frangelico on crushed ice.
Over to you.
posted by vivaldifan | 5:48 AM
3 Comments:
Music blog my eye. This should be renamed Vivaldi's feast, going by recent entries.
But you want me to choose a final meal? Seriously? I have enough trouble picking off a menu at restaurants I eat at regularly; choosing the ultimate meal of meals, one time only?
I would want to be surprised. I would want something new and amazing. I cannot possibly choose my favourite dish of all dishes. Just get me a brilliant chef and present me with little tastes of lots of delicious things, washed down with vintage champagne and finishing with something involving really dark chocolate, really good ice cream and flavours of almond and pear.
I'm sorry. That really is the best I can do.
I'd agree on the lack of anything remotely musical about this blog. But if people really wanted to hear something remotely intelligent about music they certainly wouldn't be here!
As for the final meal, I'd be sure to make it a big one. Is it possible to eat yourself to death? If so then that's the way to go. Of course you wouldn't want it to be on spaghetti and meatballs like in Seven. No, give me a nice variety of fancy things I've never eaten before - possibly straight off Iron Chef - and I'd be content to my grave.
Manners!
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