The Providores founder would sing to the last at a lively Tyrolean mountaintop bash
I’d like to end my life doing what I love, so I’d cook, with help from my sisters. We’d be on top of Sella Massif in the Dolomites, a place of breathtaking beauty I only recently discovered on a ski trip – it feels as if Uluru (Ayers Rock) had been dropped on top of the New Zealand alps.
Everyone would be sitting around a simple wooden table and chairs, wearing Tyrolean hats (I have a great green one). It would be an open invitation to friends and family – the more the merrier.
For starters I’d have New Zealand whitebait fritters with lemon, an entirely different beast to British whitebait. Tightly seasonal and incredibly expensive, they are more like elvers, and are only found along the western coast of New Zealand. My partner, Al, brings them back frozen in his luggage from Auckland to London as a treat.
They would be followed by a duck coconut curry on sticky rice with bucket-loads of fresh mint, coriander, spring onions and crispy shallots scattered on top.
For dessert there would be chunks of Alphonso mango with mascarpone, as well as lime wedges and almond cantucci biscuits. These mangoes are only briefly in season from April, so this would have to be a springtime sendoff.
We’d start with a bombardino (an eggnog laced with spirits and topped with whipped cream) and we’d finish with grappa. In between, there would be the last bottles of Waitaki Braids pinot gris and pinot noir (a vineyard I co-owned in New Zealand) that we have on the list at The Providores.
My family love to sing, so we’d make a lot of noise, but just before we all ski off the mountain, I’d have Bach’s St Matthew Passion blasting down the valley, celebrating the beauty that humankind can turn its hand to when it isn’t killing itself.
It would be an open invitation to friends and family, the more the merrier