Being rather a morbid creature, I have thought long and often about what I would order as a final meal were I ever to be executed.
Not that I'm planning to end up on death row, you understand. But it never hurts to be prepared.
Most foodie people in that position would probably opt for some gourmet delicacy, like oysters or foie gras or the ubiquitous fillet steak. The adventurous might even demand their captors ship in Ferran Adria or Heston Blumenthal to whip them up something special.
But none of these really hit the spot for me. When you're so close to Death that you can smell his halitosis, what you really need is something basic yet comforting. And Proustian. And, if possible, rich enough to kill you before the hangman does.
With this in mind, I have the perfect dish. Fried eggs – two, over easy – with a tin of baked beans and – this is the important bit – a pile of buttery mashed potatoes. Great steaming, fluffy mounds of the stuff, containing enough saturated fats to clog a rhino's carotid arteries.
Here's the recipe I'd follow:
DEATH ROW MASHED POTATOES
500g of floury spuds
300g (yes, you read that right) of butter, melted.
A cup of double cream.
Sea salt, black pepper, bay leaves and a good healthy pinch of nutmeg.
* Starting with cold water, boil the unpeeled potatoes gently until an inserted fork meets barely any resistance. (Here’s a little cheffy trick: lob a few bayleaves into the cooking water with the spuds. They will give them a deep nuttiness that is to die for. Don’t forget to take them out when the spuds are cooked, or you’ll end up with green bits between your teeth. Not a good look, no matter what the circumstances.)
* Peel the potatoes while they’re still hot and put them through a ricer. I’m assuming the prison kitchen has a potato ricer. What decent one doesn’t? A masher simply won’t do. How sick, twisted and inhumane would you have to be to present a man with a plate of lumpy starch minutes before extinguishing his lights?
* Stir them in a pan over very low heat until steam no longer escapes.
* Melt the butter in the cream and add to the spuds in a slow stream while whipping them with a wooden spoon. This incorporates air into the mixture, making them fluffy.
* Season to taste. Black pepper gives a far better flavour than white, although it does leave unsightly specks in your otherwise pristine potatoes. Still, you’re about to die. What do you care for such imperfections?
Dig in with gusto. It’ll be rich, thick and delicious. Eat enough of it and, with any luck, you’ll keel over of a myocardial infarction afore the hangman ever gets his scrawny claws on you.
Best of all, you'll have a smile on your face.
Result.
