Last Meal

Cookie cake my brother ordered for my birthday from the Great American Cookie Company. December 15, 2012.

Months ago, prompted by something that would make the discussion sound less macabre, a couple Twitter friends and I discussed our last meal.

Not that any of us do anything to beckon the executioner. Or, at least, I don’t. (I can’t speak for Nadeem and Amy.) And not that the Texas executioner honors last-meal requests anymore: The tradition ended in 2012 when Senator John Whitmire (D-Houston) argued that criminals shouldn’t get such perks.

All this aside, I knew straightaway the makeup of my last meal:  

  • A cheese plate with a selection of at least five offerings—including a prime goat cheese and a huge hunk of brie—with crackers, walnuts, and honey.
  • A pizza from Dolce Vita—unless a miracle makes it possible for one to arrive hot and fresh from Italy.
  • A large cookie cake from The Great American Cookie Company with lots of edges (the best part) and substantial chocolate frosting—yet with swaths of plain cookie as well. (A mix of iced and plain cookie is critical in a cookie cake.)

Seem like a huge amount of food? Give me a break here—it’s not as though I eat this much on an average occasion. Or even over the course of an average week.

And yes, I know what’s listed doesn’t match my eating plan and I’d feel horrible the following day. Know what? I think I’d feel pretty horrible anyway.

What would you eat as your last meal?