Melanie Dunea’s new coffee table book, My Last Supper: 50 Great Chefs and Their Final Meals, includes portraits of chefs alongside the final meals they fantasize about. (If the title and concept sounds familiar, it’s because it was excerpted in Time.) According to the New Yorker:
Truffles are a frequently requested palliative: thirteen respondents wouldn’t go without a fix, whether white, black, shaved, coarsely grated, wrapped in thin slices of salt pork, served with grilled-shirako risotto, or minced on toast. Caviar (ten mentions) and foie gras (seven) are also popular, as are the humbler condiments cracked pepper (three) and sea salt (six), often accompanying bread, which, in its various forms—baguette, rye, Pullman loaf—seems to be the most beloved foodstuff of all. Duck fat is big. So is sea urchin, an aphrodisiac.
Some unexpected final bites included Michel Richard’s request for ratatouille and Jacques Pépin’s desire for a last hot dog. It might seem like a bit of shameless self-promotion when Laurent Tourondel says, “To be honest, I would have the tuna BLT sandwich from the menu at BLT Fish Shack”—but personally, as someone who gets a great deal of enjoyment out of my own cooking, I’m happy to hear that I’m not the only person who’d request that my final meal was one I’d prepared myself.