Smashed #23: Top chefs choose their last supper

The UKs restaurant scene digested

Photo by Mika Baumeister on Unsplash

In 1997, Julie Friend won a Masterchef semi-final. I remember it well because I was cooking in that same semi-final. Julie went on to become the Masterchef champion that year. I don’t hold it against her. It was nearly 27 years ago, I hardly ever think about it and I certainly never mention it. I wouldn’t now except her recently launched Substack newsletter The Tiny Table inspired this edition of Smashed. Small world isn’t it?

In a post titled ‘Last Supper’ she describes the three-course meal that would constitute her ideal last meal. You’ll have to click the link to find out what it is (and while you are there, why not subscribe?) but I replied to the post with a link to a rather bad-tempered and pedantic article I wrote a while back about the ‘Last Supper’ trope. You can read it here.

Re-reading the piece, I realised that the reason I was so down on the whole thing was partly because that’s the sort of contrarian misery guts I am at heart (it’s actually quite a funny piece, or at least it’s meant to be, in a dark and dry way) and partly because a feature commission by The Times called ‘My last supper as chosen by top chefs’ had recently been spiked and a lot of hard work would never see the light of day.

I managed to track down my submitted copy in my Gmail archives and enjoyed reading it. The interviews may be old but the subject is timeless. Last suppers don’t tend to change, so I’m betting that if I asked the same selection of chefs the same question now I’d get the same answer so it seemed a shame not to publish the piece here. Sadly, both Antonio Carluccio and Russell Norman have passed away since the interviews were conducted but their responses were so charming that I have decided to keep them in. I hope you enjoy the article and thanks to Julie Friend for the inspiration.

My Last Meal, as chosen by top chefs

John Torode, chef and TV presenter

My last meal would be eaten alone on the sand with my feet in the the beautiful blue water on a palm tree lined beach in Thailand. I'd have said all my goodbyes before hand as nobody need to see me drop dead. I'd have a crisp glass of white wine with, sacrilegiously, a block of ice in it so its really cold. Then its got to be some ferocious Thai food whether it be a nam prik ong – a wonderful sweet pork relish that's almost like pork popcorn, or a big steaming bowl of Thai pork curry with lots of fat and gelatinous skin. There needs to be lots of rice and things to chew on like chicken wrapped in pandan and Thai fishcakes. It would be cooked by Thai street vendors who have been cooking their specialities for years and I'd probably help them - regardless of whether it's your last day, you still want to know the little tricks and maybe because of the circumstances they might just share them.

Angela Hartnett, Murano, London
It would have to be anolini. Not only have the women in my family made them every Christmas since I can remember, but the little ravioli-like parcels are just totally delicious. They are filled with veal and beef stew mixed with breadcrumbs and parmesan and the flavours evoke the Emilia-Romana region, where my grandparents are from. For an aperitivo, it’s a Negroni everytime. With the meal, a strong Italian red. 

Michel Roux Jnr, Chez Roux, London
I love seafood so my last meal would be a grilled lobster smothered in garlic butter and big fat chips cooked in duck fat – a really excessive calorie count but delicious and simple. I use Scottish lobster invariably, sometimes from the west coast so it would be a native lobster but I have had crawfish, the spiny lobster, in the Seychelles grilled on the beach with garlic butter with baked breadfruit and that was equally as good. My late father Albert Roux would cook, you can't get much better than him. I've got a lovely house in Provence with a beautiful big courtyard which stops the mistral wind coming in. It's sunlit and quiet, the perfect environment. We'd drink Daumas Gassac 2007 from near Montpellier, an unusual but great white wine. 

Jason Atherton, The Social Company, worldwide

The most decadent meal I ever had was at Alain Ducasse's Louis XV restaurant in Monaco during  white truffle season and it would be nice to have it one more time before I die, it was just mind blowing. It was a whole white truffle experience but one of the highlights was poached John Dory with squid and cockles and a puntarella salad that was cut into diamond shapes and a white truffle butter. Then at table side they shaved lashings of white truffle all over the dish and it was just beautiful. I'd invite my family and say, 'This is it, it’s all over, enjoy the white truffle and I'll see you on the other side.' I'm a riesling nut so we'd drink Emile Trimbach 1982 Cuvee Grand Cru from Alsace throughout the whole meal and just go for it. I'd also like to try an old Petrus and a really old Romanée-Conti before I die. 

Marcus Wareing, former two Michelin starred chef and TV presenter
One of my favorite dishes has always been a roast dinner a good leg of roast lamb and I think my late dad would be the one I'd want to cook it, you don't need a celebrity chef. He only started cooking when he sold his fruit and veg business and he just picked up something he'd never done before and he did a great job of it as well. He did it the way you always remember it even though when I was a kid it was always my mum that did it. What would be really funny would be my dad and the late Albert Roux together, both smokers, both old, both all grumpy. Cook at the family home. Lamb in this country is brilliant whether it’s from Wales or the Lake District. I'm a big fan of salt march lamb because it has a bigger flavour but I also like lamb in the spring when its really young. My wife and my three children and my dad and we'd invite Albert to sit down and eat it with us. I'm a big Burgundy fan, red and white so I'd have a little bit of both and get my sommelier to bring it along.  

Simon Rogan, L’Enclume, Cumbria

I'd get my mum to cook me her chicken chasseur. When I was 18, I was an apprentice chef in the New Forest. I'd take the last train home each night to Southampton and Mum would wait up for me. She'd have taped my favourite TV programmes which we'd watch together and she'd routinely make chicken chasseur. It's such a welcome, favoured dish that even now whenever I go home she makes it for me. I'd share the meal with family, when the Rogan clan get together (including my partner Penny and our son Michael) it's loving chaos. I treasure those meals. I'd drink gin and tonic, that's my drink over anything else.

Tom Kerridge, The Hand and Flowers, Marlow

My last meal would be fish and chips from a chippy in Gloucester where I grew up. Sadly its no longer there but I have great childhood memories of the place. People would queue on a Saturday lunch time round the block-that's the sign of a great chippy! Danny Dyke was the owner and the best chip fryer and fish batterer Gloucester has ever seen. I’d eat it at home but out of the paper, whilst watching Six Nations rugby or any football match with my mum and wife, brother and maybe a few old school friends thrown in so we could reminisce. Naturally, the only true accompaniment to great fish and chips is a can of Lilt.

The late Antonio Carluccio
After I have tasted so much very good food in my life (and also very bad!) I think that I want to finish with a very simple dish – freshly cooked spaghetti al dente with crushed fresh tomato sauce with basil, both ripe and just picked from the plants. If I would want anyone to cook this for me, it would be my mother. We'd eat in the garden at home, under the pergola with a couple of friends and my little brother Enrico, if I could have him back. I'd drink freshly pressed pomegranate juice.

Thomasina Miers, Co-founder, Wahaca
I would start with some sashimi of the finest grade fish (sadly not Blue Fin – I think it would be extinct by then, but some other selection of fish still on the menu) with a fiery hot Jalapeno dressing and a smoked chilli dressing to dip my fish into. I would then have an aged T-bone steak from an old cow (they have far superior flavour when old), grilled rare and served with a beautifully crisp, green salad with a wonderfully oily vinaigrette. Crisp, piping hot, triple-cooked fries with lashings of mayonnaise; some grainy mustard. Finally it would be a crème brulee – perfect comfort food with its crunchy, sweet topping and silky smooth interior – there would be a hint of aged tequila in that cream. I start with a whisky sour and then drink the finest wine I could get my hands on.  

Karam Sethi, JKS Restaurants, London
I would have a plate of my mother in law’s Galouti minced meat kebabs, her spicy kachori snacks and chicken qorma. Her food is indulgent Indian cooking at its best, rich and warming. I’d wash it down with a pint Tusker lager, which is an East African premium brand and very good. 

Jamie Oliver, Jamie Oliver Catherine Street, London
To start it would have to be spaghetti all'arrabiata made with three types of chilies. It's soft and sweet and perfect comfort food. For dessert I'd have homemade rice pudding, served cold, and topped with hot caramelized peaches. It would be a nice summers evening and I'd cook the meal myself and eat it with Jools in our garden in Essex with a cold bottle of Hoegaarden beer.

Sat Bains, Retaurant Sat Bains, Nottingham

My last meal would have to be one of the longest ever, an incredible experience and a hell of a party. I would ask chef David Thompson and his team from his former restaurant Nahm in Bangkok to cook, the food has all the flavours I love – galangal, ginger, chilli and nam pla. I would book a fabulous, big Thai villa, near a beach - maybe in Koh Samui or Krabi – with a large dining space and loads of fabulous bedrooms in private little villas for everyone and a great spa. It would be me and my wife Amanda and everyone of our friends and family from the industry from all over the world. We'd drink Rieslings from Alsace, progress on to white Burgundy and then drink every bottle of Cote Rotie 1989 I could get my hands on.

The late Russell Norman

I would start with a simple salad of ripe San Marzano tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella, torn basil leaves, sea salt and Planeta olive oil. I'd need a hunk of good bread to go with it. I would follow with risotto primavera - asparagus tips, fresh peas, broad beans, mint and plenty of Parmesan. These are two dishes I don't think I could ever tire of - such vibrant flavours and comforting textures. I would like to prepare the salad and make the risotto myself. I find cooking to be quite therapeutic, almost meditative, and cooking risotto is positively transcendental. I'm also, it must be confessed, slightly controlling so I'd want the dishes to be absolutely right. I'd like to eat this meal with my wife Jules on a balcony overlooking the bay in Assos in Kefalonia. The sun would be warm and the sea calm. The view would take in the impressive Venetian fortress on the promontory and the delicate isthmus that connects it. We would watch the swifts swoop as the sun sets. We'd drink something simple like a very cold bottle of Joseph Drouhin Puligny Montrachet 2011. 

Giorgio Locatelli, Locanda Locatelli, London
My last meal would be zuppa di pesce (fish soup) eaten with my wife Plaxy at Vittorio’s in Portopalo Menfi in Sicily and cooked by the owner Vittorio. He is such a great character and I have had some of my most memorable meals in this restaurant. It's in a beautiful location in a sleepy fishing village overlooking the beach and turquoise sea. The fish soup they serve is incredible and I remember eating it on a cold winter's day overlooking the crashing waves, it's one of the best dishes I’ve ever eaten. Vittorio will often pull fish from a local boat and ask customers what they want to eat - there is no menu, just whatever he thinks is best that day. 

Raymond Blanc, Le Manoir aux Quat'Saisons, Oxfordshire

My last meal would be a great selection of rustic specialities and wines from my home region of Jura in France. Beautiful slow-cooked braised squid, bouillabaise, bourride, country bread, olives, tapenade, anchoïade, Morteau Sausage and local Comte cheese. It would be prepared by late mother Maman Blanc who always got the freshest seasonal produce - she remains my inspiration. I'd eat the meal in the South of France with my mother and my sister and friends. There is nothing better than spending time eating and drinking with loved ones - talking, sharing food, laughing. Beforehand, we'd visit the local markets too - choosing food, tasting, talking to the stall owners who are just so passionate about their produce. 

Nobu Matsuhisa, Nobu restaurants worldwide
My last meal would be Sushi and Miso soup cooked by three Michelin-starred chef Mitsuhiro Araki of Araki in the Ginza district of Toyko. It’s a a small sushi restaurant that seats only 10. I would eat with my wife and family and we'd drink my own Californian wine, Matsuhisa Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon, it's the official wine for sushi.

Pierre Koffmann, former three Michelin starred chef

How nice that I can get an order in first before popping my clogs. My last dish would have to be a traditional French bouillabaisse – loving my food of course this is two dishes in one - the soup being a starter and the fish the main course. To finish, I’d like a home baked apple croustade. My wife Claire is a very good cook – she’s better than me. I would hope she would be happy to make those dishes for me without weeping too much. I’d like to be in Provence – being a traditional Frenchman I would have of course have to be in bed with beautiful woman (my wife Claire of course). To drink wth the bouillabaisse, we'd have a beautiful bottle of Burgundy and with the croustade, a chilled glass of Chateau d’Yquem.