Death row meals

What would you eat if it was your last meal on Earth?

By Ben Olson
Reader Staff

What a person eats often says a lot about them, but what if they only had one meal to eat before shuffling off this mortal coil?

There have been several interesting accounts of death row inmates’ last meals, including a series called No Seconds, by photographer Henry Hargreaves, in which he photographed a representation of the reported last meal requests of notorious criminals. 

Hargreaves’ photos are as striking as some of the inmates’ choices. Victor Feguer was put to death in Iowa for kidnapping and murder in 1963. His last meal request? A single olive with the pit in it. 

Serial killer John Wayne Gacy was executed in 1994 by lethal injection for rape and 33 counts of murder. Gacy requested 12 fried shrimp, a bucket of KFC, french fries and a pound of strawberries. 

Timothy McVeigh, the domestic terrorist responsible for the Oklahoma City bombing was killed in 2001 for 168 counts of murder. He only requested two pints of mint chocolate chip ice cream. 

Finally, in 2010, Ronnie Lee Gardner was shot by a firing squad in Utah for two counts of murder. He asked to eat a steak, a lobster tail, apple pie and vanilla ice cream — all while watching The Lord of the Rings trilogy.

The eating habits of death row inmates might be interesting in a macabre way, but I’m oddly more interested in what you, our dear readers, might request if given one last meal on Earth.

In that spirit, I reached out to a handful of readers and put the question to them: What would you eat for your “death row meal”?

I’ll start it off with mine: I’d demand a noodle dish from a tiny restaurant in Ha Noi, Vietnam called Bún Bò Nam Bộ with spring rolls on the side, a couple of slices of thin-crust pepperoni pizza, two hard-shell ground beef tacos, a garden salad with ranch dressing and a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream for dessert. I’d wash it all down with an ice cold beer, preferably a rice lager from a Caribbean island and, if possible, I’d like to sit outside and watch water moving and hear birds chirping while eating it.

Reader Senior Writer Soncirey Mitchell requested her mom’s zucchini pie.

“It’s a kind of crustless, cheesy quiche with broiled parmesan on top,” Mitchell wrote. “And a big slice of devil’s food chocolate cake with milk chocolate icing (it’s my go-to birthday and death-day meal).”

Mitchell would also like a side of steamed broccoli with loads of butter, salt and lemon; a bowl of Tillamook chocolate ice cream; a glass of water; and a passion fruit, orange and guava mimosa.

“Finish it — and me — off with a classic peppermint Altoid,” she wrote. “If my crimes are so terrible that my mom won’t cook for me, though, just slap a grilled cheese with tomatoes and arugula in my hand and flip the switch.”

Here was Reader Editor-in-Chief Zach Hagadone’s selection: “Fresh-shucked oysters on the half shell; artichoke-garlic-lemon sardine pasta with olive oil, capers and fresh Parmesan; and an arugula salad with red wine and balsamic vinegars, pepper, cherry tomatoes and butter/garlic-sauteed morel mushrooms. A bottle of good Champagne, a slice of stilton and pickled chutney, and a pint of Old Speckled Hen from The Gun Inn in Keyhaven, Hampshire County, U.K., to finish”

Veronica Knowlton gave her last meal a lot of thought and came up with a detailed five-course dinner.

“Food should tell a story, providing exploration and homecoming without ever leaving the table,” she explained.

For her appetizer, escargot from Paris, France, which will be followed by a soup of Pailin sweet corn cappuccino with homemade salted egg yolk and black coffee from Embassy by Chef Kimsan, Siam Reap, Cambodia.

“The trip to Cambodia was so special to my heart,” Knowlton explained. “Celebrating my mom’s retirement. I met my parents from California, my sister from New Jersey and my aunt and uncle from Thailand in Cambodia for 10 days of historic magic.”

Knowlton’s main course would be Tim’s bone-in ribeye, charcoal grilled in her backyard with extra flaky salt.

“Here’s the thing about this steak: It must be grilled by my partner, Andrew,” Knowlton said. “He consistently delivers the most perfect sear, mouthwatering rendered fat and perfect salt-to-meal ratio. No steakhouse could ever compete with watching the love of your life — from the gentle sway of a hammock — pamper you with dinner.”

Knowlton’s side dishes would include mac and cheese and roasted broccoli, finished with one Kraft American single.

Finally, her dessert of choice is frozen Cool Whip with Honey Nut Cheerios eaten on the floral couch at her grandma’s house.

For Tim French’s last meal, he told the Reader he’d pick his wife Kyla’s morels and clams meal that she makes after they forage for morels in the Selkirk Mountains.

“We get some fresh clams from Robbie at Flying Fish Co. then cook them up with the morels, white wine, butter, fresh garden herbs and tomatoes and serve with some toasted bread,” French wrote. 

Rory O’Rorke also chose a family recipe for his last meal on Earth. 

“I start with my mum’s shrimp cocktail in one of those big old-fashioned glasses,” O’Rorke wrote. “Shrimp, cherry tomatoes, lettuce, red onion and avocado swimming in Marie Rose sauce.”

O’Rorke would follow with a massive roast dinner with roast beef and potatoes, cauliflower, cheese, Brussels sprouts with bacon, Yorkshire puddings and beef gravy with a pot de creme to finish.

“Failing that, an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet,” O’Rorke wrote. “I’m realizing now that my last meal is the same meal we do every Sunday, so it’s a good life. The roast, that is, not the Chinese buffet.”

Jen Heller’s first thought was to go for a meal that is really expensive.

“My most likely death row crime would be ‘subversiveness towards authoritative government officials,’ so, forcing them to splurge on my last meal would be a great way to go out with two middle fingers held high,” Heller wrote to the Reader.

After some Googling, however, Heller found that wasn’t an original thought.

“Evidently a lot of states have now implemented caps on death row meals for this very reason,” she wrote.

While some states can turn down a custom meal if it’s too expensive, others require prisoners to stick to a price point or to shop locally. Still others make prisoners pick from meal options that are on the menu in-house.

Instead of the pricey option, Heller decided to eat foods that were high-risk, “Because, you know, no consequences,” she wrote.

“I’d sample some Japanese pufferfish or fugu with casu martzu in the cheese course, washed down by some kopi luwak coffee (ethically sourced, of course),” she wrote. “Some of those recently recalled broccoli sprouts from Moyie Springs would feature somewhere, maybe with the fugu. But Idaho is cheap on its death row budget (shocker), so if I requested all of this, I would likely just end up with a plate of recalled sprouts.”

Her final financial compromise while sticking to the “no consequences” attitude?

“I’d eat the foods that my gut can’t handle well anymore,” Heller wrote. “A large mug of coffee, a platter of chicken alfredo, a big bowl of ice cream. And since there’s no alcohol allowed in prison, I’d toast my pending upgrade with a twin pack of Twinkies. ’Cuz why not?”