None of us know when that final curtain will fall, concluding our lives and leaving us stranded in oblivion, never to be heard from again. While some of us are out here having existential crises about “what we’ll leave behind” and “how we’ll be remembered” (Are you there, god? It’s me, Mark. I want a Wikipedia page!), Anthony Bourdain’s thinking about something much more important: what he’ll have for his final meal.
Speaking to The Guardian, Bourdain details that his last hurrah would be at Sukiyabashi Jiro, a subterranean sushi joint which was popularized in the film Jiro Dreams of Sushi (although Bourdain’s been a fan since way before the film came out). If you haven’t seen the movie — highly recommended — check out the trailer below:
Mouth watering yet? According to Bourdain (and virtually every authoritative source on such things), the restaurant serves some of the “finest sushi on the planet” and if he knew that he had to shuffle off this mortal coil sooner rather than later, he’d make one final pilgrimage to the restaurant, descend to its depths, and eat until he burst.
Ideally, he’d be doing it alone and with lots and lots of sake.
I’d be alone at the sushi bar. I think I’d prefer to die like an old lion – to crawl away into the bushes where no one can see me draw my last breath. But in this case, I’d crawl away to a seat in front of this beautiful hinoki wood sushi bar, where three-Michelin starred Jiro Ono would make me a 22- or 23-course omakase tasting menu.
After exchanging just a few words with “Jiro-San,” Bourdain would pounce on the meal, washing it all down with the finest sake in the house, even though he openly admits that Jiro would prefer he just drink tea throughout instead of adulterating the flavor of his specially-grown rice with a rice-based alcohol. And then, when he’s done, he’d prefer to have his spinal cord severed with one well-placed bullet.
After the final course, usually Jiro’s incredibly precise tamago (omelette), preferably while I’m still chewing, you could step up behind me and – KGB style – shoot me in the back of the neck. As I sagged to the floor, in my last conscious seconds, I would know that this night, no one on Earth had eaten better than me. Pure pleasure.
Its an interesting, if morbid, way to go. But everyone’s going to die sometime, so why not do it when you’re full of sushi and just a tiny bit tipsy. Of course, this raises an important question: Where would your last meal be? (Don’t worry, you don’t have to tell us how you’d want to die.)
