On the Eve of My Execution...

Capital punishment--it's a sticky issue that has no good solution. Yet, regardless of one's position on the matter, I think it's safe to say that we all share a curious and rather morbid fascination with a prisoner's last meal. Now, just why is that? I suppose it's because it gives us a means to put ourselves into the most favorable moment of this rather unenviable position. We don't like to envision ourselves strapped to the chair, but we can perhaps see ourselves accepting this one last concession to the doomed.

So, what would my last meal be? On the eve of my execution, barring any restrictions, here is my menu:

For starters:

A Beefeater martini on the rocks with a twist and three olives (I'm sipping one as I write).
A dozen and a half oysters on the half shell, served ice cold with lemon and cocktail sauce.
A bowl of my grandmother's leek and watercress soup.

Main course:

Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with gravy.
Edelweiss hefeweizen (not the perfect marriage of drink and food, but then it's my last meal, not yours).
Asparagus with Hollandaise sauce.

I'm still hungry:

An assortment of French cheeses, specifically: roquefort, brie, morbier and chevre, all served at room temperature.
A nice crusty baguette.
A robust bottle of Haut-Médoc.

Dessert:

B&B.
Warm homemade blueberry pie and a scoop of Breyer's vanilla ice cream.
Coffee. Good coffee. Not shitty coffee, like Starbucks. The last thing I drink on earth better not be shitty, undrinkable Starbucks coffee (honestly, why do people think it's good?).

McBone wants to know: if faced with the gas chamber, the gallows or the hangman's noose, what would you want to eat? Feel free to comment in as much detail as you please.

Bon appétit!

nwb