You can keep the foie gras and the truffles. Ditto for the lobster and caviar. And what’s with the Wagyu? When my time is up, I want my last meal to be a big bowl of extra-crispy fried potatoes, generously dusted with Parmigiano-Reggiano, fresh herbs, and sea salt crystals that explode in your mouth—all served up with a side of garlicky aioli. Given the option, I’ll gladly wash them down with a magnum of ’61 Cheval Blanc, but beyond that, I will want for nothing more to smooth my transition to the afterlife.
Let it be known, I’ll be making these
