I’m loving
MasterChef judge Matt Preston is often asked, ‘What would be your last meal?’ This time, he’s got a worthy answer.
Matt Preston answers a frequently asked question.
WHEN I WAS A YOUNG LAD, I never gave any thought to what my perfect last meal would be (it was obviously going to be pizza followed by ice cream). Throw in some fried chicken with country gravy and a rib-eye steak, and you have a standard last meal request from about every death row inmate since the concept of a death row last meal started in Texas penitentiaries in 1924.
But now that I am regularly asked this question, my own response has been more artfully constructed to include dishes that will make me seem both homely and down-to-earth, as well as erudite and well-travelled. So, my last meal would have to be a degustation starting with the best sashimi and nigiri from Tokyo; homemade tagliolini (homemade at my house by Monica Bellucci obviously) loaded with butter and white truffles; a margherita pizza from Da Mattozzi in Naples; my mother’s cabbage rolls; roasted brussels sprouts in fish sauce; caramel pork crackle and crispy roti; a chip-and-fish-finger butty; a bowl of perfectly ripe fresh peaches on ice; ice cream; and a Snickers bar. Okay, maybe two. Oh, and a really good cheese board. Like the one that had to be carried in by two burly waiters at chef Santi Santamaria’s place in Madrid because it was both so long and so heavy!
This has now all changed. Asked again for my last meal by this column – which I hope isn’t an ominous sign – I have had a death-bed conversion of sorts, and my answer is even more measured. You see, I’ve concluded my last meal should represent a sign that I am trying to cleanse the sins and excesses of my wicked, wicked eating past. It’s not a new idea. Oscar Wilde, the English king Charles II, and Constantine the Great all converted to either Catholicism or Christianity on their death beds. And what is food these days if not a new religion, complete with new warring sects and fresh heresies – like eating carbs after 4pm or being caught with caged eggs in your supermarket basket?
We are constantly told that our salvation lies on the path of culinary self-righteousness and that a life dedicated to pork fat and sugar – to all that is crispy, creamy, salty, savoury, spicy, sour and sweet – will lead us to damnation and that very particular corner of hell reserved for people in elasticated pants.
So maybe my last meal is a chance to recant on these heresies and crave forgiveness for the death and destruction – the reefs destroyed and the forests felled – that my libertine ways and reckless wallowing in culinary pleasure have caused? They say it’s never too late to repent, and maybe I could instantly erase those years of ecologically irresponsible meat eating, shameful sugar excess and way too much pizza and ice cream with the final absolution of my last meal. If Yoko Ono said that the one regret of her life was not saying “I love you” enough, then perhaps my last meal is my chance to finally say: “I love you, but enough… ”
So, with this in mind, I present my new last meal: it’s my gluten-free, meat-free, cruelty-free, dairy-free, sugar-free (and easily garlic- and onion-free for the FODMAPers out there) Last Supper that’s still tasty enough to share with all you fellow sinners. And if this is the manna they serve in heaven I’d be quite happy – assuming I could get some nutritional yeast on the side.
PEA, PEPITA & SPINACH HUMMUS SERVES 6-8
50g baby spinach 400g frozen peas, blanched, refreshed 1 garlic clove (optional), crushed
2/ 3 cup (165ml) extra virgin olive oil Juice of 1 lemon 2 tbs gluten-free tahini 1/ 3 cup (55g) pumpkin seeds (pepitas), lightly toasted, plus extra to serve Dill and mint sprigs, and cucumber and baby fennel wedges,
to serve
SNOW PEA & BEAN SALSA
12 green beans 12 sugar snap peas 1 long green shallot (optional), thinly sliced 1/ 2 celery stalk, thinly sliced 1/4 cup (60ml) extra virgin olive oil Juice of 1/ 2 lemon
To make the hummus, place spinach, peas, garlic, if using, oil and lemon juice in a blender and whiz to combine. Add tahini and pepitas, and whiz until smooth. Season to taste with salt flakes.
For the salsa, blanch beans and sugar snaps in a saucepan of boiling salted water for 1 minute or until just tender and bright green. Rrefresh in iced water. Thinly slice beans into rounds and split open sugar snaps. Toss with the shallot, if using, celery, oil and lemon juice to lightly pickle. Season with salt flakes. Spread hummus into a serving dish. Top with salsa and extra pepitas, and scatter with herb sprigs. Serve with vegetable crudites.