The Last Supper

It’s Christmas, not Easter, and so talk of the last supper should not be on a bloggers menu. But whilst Jesus may have had an inkling as to the where and when of his demise, for most of us it will come as a surprise. One minute everything is fine and dandy, and then the next…well. Hopefully, there will not be too much screaming and blood in the gap between those two moments.

The long and short of this, is that unlike Jesus and other convicted criminals on death row, most of us are not going to get to pick and choose from a menu in the knowledge that the next bite will be our last. But we can still pick a dish, for fun. Or more than one dish, because one’s mood and cravings change. I’ve seen Anthony Bourdain declare that a poached egg atop a slice of fried blood sausage would be his choice. Then in another interview, he picked sushi. Taste buds are fickle.

What would I choose as my final meal? There are a few candidates. A steak and Stilton pie, with crispy chips and peas, smothered in thick gravy with a liberal splash of HP brown sauce. Enchiladas poblanos, the Mexican entry on my list. I do make a mean boeuf bourguignon, served with mash. And as it’s my last meal, I’ll ignore Mrs P and add liberal quantities of lardons and shallots.

A cheese ploughman could work, if I turn out to be a summertime fatality. Although for all I know, the prospect of imminent death might cause my sweet tooth to kick into action. A home made apple and blackberry crumble with lashings of Birds custard would hit the spot. Although one would hope that, given the circumstances, I would be permitted a main and a desert.

But if I had to pick my last meal right this moment, I think the winner is the bacon and brie roll in the photo, lubricated with a generous dollop of cranberry sauce. The bacon absolutely has to be crispy and dripping in fat. The brie must be a good one and properly ripened. The bread crusty and fresh. You should be able to taste the salted butter, spread liberally.

It’s a dish that can so easily be ruined. But done well? Oh my. Pig meat and cheese are the finest ingredients known to man. Nothing tastes better. The dictionary definition of the word ‘flavour’ should include bacon and brie. And I’ll argue to my dying breath that there’s no better pork and dairy combo. And the guys and gals in our favourite coffee shop absolutely nail it.

I write this on the train home from a day out in London. There actually is a train. Hurrah! No rail strike today. There are no ambulances though. Today is the paramedics day for industrial action. We’re told we shouldn’t take any risks. Be careful. No one is coming unless you’re having a heart attack. Trivial stuff like ‘strokes’ and severe wounds will likely be ignored. Some folk in the UK will today be having last meals that didn’t have to be last meals.

Perhaps I ought to order in extra supplies of brie and bacon. Just in case.