Mas­sif attack

The Provi­dores founder would sing to the last at a lively Ty­rolean moun­tain­top bash

The Guardian - Cook - - Last Bites - Peter Gor­don The on­line ver­sion of this ar­ti­cle in­cludes the recipe for Peter’s New Zealand duck co­conut curry. peter-gor­don.net

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

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