Dunea - My last supper: the next course: 50 great chefs and their final meals: portraits, interviews, and recipes

F OR N IGEL

All great chefs have three things in common. First, they accept and respect that Mother Nature is the true artist and that they are the cooks. Second, everything they do in the kitchen is an extension of themselves. Third, they give great insight into the world they were born into and the world that inspired them, and they serve these experiences on plates.

When Melanie asked what I would eat for my last supper, I immediately thought of my mother and how I would give anything to have her present at my final meal. Any consideration of what meal would be prepared would reflect my sense of hope at being reunited with her. Although she died when I was six years old, she has inspired everything I do. My tribute to Mother Nature is connected in every way to my own mother.

The last supper is the final chapter of a great chefs gastronomic journey. This collection of photographs and interviews celebrates the great diversity and rich experiences of my fellow chefs.However, we all have a connection to the food we prepare, serve our families, and eat. My hope is that the stories here inspire you to appreciate what is most important to you and to respect your personal connection to Mother Nature, however she presents herself to you.

MARCO PIERRE WHITE

What would be your last meal on Earth?

A good bread. Bread is a symbol of birth, life, and death. Its the symbol of sharing, companionship, friends, and French peopleyou know, we love bread, bread with a nice dollop of salted butter. Bread is the most beautiful gesture of love. I remember from my childhood we would bake these very large loaves of bread. My mother would hold the bread against her chest and make the sign of the cross, because we were Catholic, and shed cut the bread on her chest and give it to us, her children, and to her husband. It was our daily bread. She gave us her love and emptied herself giving us this bread. So, for me, its not so much about the last meal; its more Prousts madeleines, the nostalgia.

What would be the setting for the meal?

The place isnt that important. I think the most important thing is whom one is with. The time of year and the weather are not important, really, because even if its the worst weather in the world, if Im surrounded by people I love, thats the most beautiful ray of sunlight.

What would you drink with your meal?

Water, of course. But if I go in the pursuit of luxury, I would drink a glass of Bordeaux, because its from my region. Im from Bordeaux, from Poitou, so I have a weakness for Bordeaux wine. A Pape Clement because at one time I studied in the seminary to be a priest, which is why the Pape Clement wine is symbolic for me. It would be a vintage 45, the vintage of the century. Theres 28, 45, 47those are the three best years. But 45, its perhaps the best, especially in Pape Clement. I have bottles of 45 at my home. I was born in 1945, so I bought 45s, and people gave me 45s.

Would there be music?

Ah, you know, I dont have an ear for music. But Mozart seems quite nice. Mozarts Requiem... for leaving, given the circumstances. Or, otherwise, something else I like very much is Vivaldis Four Seasons. Its more cheery. We are speaking of death, after all.

Who would be your dining companions?

I would like to be with my children, my grandchildren, my family, the people I love, of course. The goal of life is to find oneself a little bit in that family space, with the children, and to share with them. To leave life surrounded by the people that one loves, with ones children and childrens children, I think thats the best one could hope for.

Who would prepare the meal?

I would make the bread. Bread is natural; its like natural wineits like mankind ripening. Man lives like a wine that ferments, that ages to perfection little by little. This bread is life, after all. This bread that you put into an oven develops and afterward becomes crusty, which means everything! And then, of course, these odors, these odors that are extraordinary... I remember when my mother would take a chicken to roastyou know, for Sundayto the bakers, and the baker would cook the chicken in the middle of the breads so the chicken was embalmed with the smell of bread... Its very simple! Very simple, really, but so good.

What would be your last meal on Earth?

I think a little bit of skirt steak, which is the part of the beef next to the rump. Its full of flavor. Might be a little bit hard to masticate, but it has such a flavor that it is my favorite cut of beef on the animal. I would have it with barnaise sauce and some English chips. I dont like them too crispy, and I dont like them lumpy either... somewhere in between the two. And for dessert, I would have a bit of fromage du chevre to go with the wine. I love goat cheese.

What would be the setting for the meal?

On a little island somewhere.

What would you drink with your meal?

Well, for the skirt and my chips, I would like a nice bottle of Beaujolais. And I would go for a Ctes du Rhne, a good Ctes du Rhne, nice and strong to go with my fromage du chevre.

Would there be music?

Beethoven. It is the last supper, so eating it with the Fifth Symphony would be absolutely perfect.

Who would be your dining companions?

Well, if they are the last breaths Im going to take, I would like to take them with my wife, only the two of usand the dog. The three of us. The dog will partake in eating the steak, Im sure. He always does.

Who would prepare the meal?

I. Yes, I would do that.

What would be your last meal on Earth?

If it were really my last meal, I would want my mothers gravy. Sunday gravy. Thats kinda what I was weaned on... thats what I would want to take to the grave with me. Somebody asked me this question a while ago, and I was like, well, if I really wanted to stretch it out, I would say, Id go to Sydney and Id eat at Tetsuya, and then Id go to, you know, Singapore, and Id eat somewhere else, and then from there Id fly to Hong Kong. But thats not me.