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<\/a>My typical daydream<\/p><\/div>\n
While my brother spends his time fantasizing about travel<\/strong> and hiking, I can generally be found thinking about my next meal. \u00a0He has a lot more “get up and go”<\/strong> than I do. \u00a0In fact over the years several people have wished that he’d get up and go – but I think that was mainly in his college days. \u00a0I’m more of a sit-down and snuggle-in<\/strong> person and consequently, I have way too much time to think about things – like food. \u00a0My preoccupation with eating<\/strong> was pointed out to me the other day (at lunch, naturally) when I mentioned something in passing about my “Last Meal” wishes<\/strong>. \u00a0My table mates assumed, given my near-Senior Citizen status, that I was referring to what gourmet delights the nursing home might bring my way before I pass on to my great reward<\/strong>. \u00a0Unfortunately, I’m not that sane. \u00a0Nope – for about the past 30 years or so I’ve thought about what my last meal might consist of should I ever be strapped in to the electric chair<\/strong>.<\/p>\n Cause for intense psychoanalysis<\/strong>? \u00a0Perhaps. \u00a0But I chalk it up to growing up so close to San Quentin,<\/strong> where every detail of a prisoner’s last requests were publicized in great detail. \u00a0Of course, that included what the person wanted as his last meal. \u00a0I was always intrigued by the food choices – and never understood it when someone requested a Big Mac. \u00a0Since then, I’ve given more thought than it deserves<\/strong> to what my final requests might be. \u00a0I think my Warm…it has to be warm.<\/p><\/div>\n First, I’d start with a big bowl of clam chowder from Fisherman’s Grotto in San Francisco<\/strong>. \u00a0I used to go there a lot as a kid and it is still considered one of the best places<\/strong>\u00a0in The City to get chowder. \u00a0I would accompany that with a whole round of their best Sourdough bread<\/strong>, warm and slathered in real butter. \u00a0I know that you can get the clam chowder served in<\/em> the sourdough round, but I’d rather just break off some huge hunks<\/strong> and dip them in the soup myself. \u00a0After all, at this point I don’t think I’d be concerned with table manners<\/strong>. \u00a0I’d clear my palate with a bit of fresh cracked crab<\/strong>. \u00a0We used to buy some almost every Saturday in season when I grew up in Novato, a luxury I didn’t appreciate<\/strong> until I moved to Arizona where scorpions are the closest thing we have to crabs<\/strong>. \u00a0Next, I’d get a crisp Caesar salad, replete with anchovies and TONS of dressing. \u00a0Next up, a filet mignon, charred on the outside<\/strong> and medium rare of the inside, served with a loaded<\/em> baked potato. \u00a0No vegetables<\/strong>. \u00a0I’m not a big fan in the first place and heck, if I’m going to “the chair”, why would I bother at that point?<\/p>\n I could bathe in this.<\/p><\/div>\n To complete this wonderful repast (and assuming I hadn’t keeled over in a food coma<\/strong>), I would complete my meal with an entire “All American Chocolate Cake” from Costco<\/strong>. \u00a0If you aren’t familiar with this delicacy I’d suggest that you hightail it down to your local Costco immediately. \u00a0It is always baked in-store, so it is fresh and moist every time.<\/strong> \u00a0It weighs an astounding SEVEN pounds and is about 8 inches tall. \u00a0It consists of four layers, each surrounded by the creamiest chocolate frosting and then whole thing is covered in chocolate shavings<\/strong>. \u00a0At one time the cake was so popular that it had its own Facebook page and followers. \u00a0Let’s just put it this way – it’s more than a dessert, it’s a conversation piece.<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n So, that’s it. I got to thinking the other day that since the probability of me going to jail<\/strong> is so slim, why don’t I just have my “Last Meal” and enjoy myself? \u00a0I’m considering it. \u00a0Perhaps I’ll take the plunge<\/strong> next time we visit San Francisco. \u00a0But since I don’t know when that will be, I’ll just start with the cake. \u00a0After which I’ll check myself into the local “diet farm”<\/strong> which, when you think about it, actually is<\/em>\u00a0like going to jail. \u00a0I could start my own reality show, “Chocolate is the New Black”<\/strong>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" By Suzanne Sparrow Watson While my brother spends his time fantasizing about travel and hiking, I can generally be found thinking about my next meal. \u00a0He has a lot more “get up and go” than I do. \u00a0In fact over … read moreobsession<\/del> thought process stems from constant dieting. \u00a0How liberating to think that one could eat an entire meal without one shred of guilt<\/strong> about calories or a subsequent need to hit the gym! \u00a0I’m hoping that the odds are slim that I’ll actually be arrested, convicted and jailed for a major felony, so here (for entertainment purposes only) \u00a0are my requests. \u00a0Requests, by the way, that have basically stayed the same over the past 30 years. \u00a0The only change has been changing from white to red wine – for health purposes, of course.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/a>