Sara Beitia--I could never actually eat my last meal as my "Last Meal," but if I could choose what my final repast would be without me knowing it would be the last, I'd want it to be the family dinner from House of Kim: sizzling rice soup, egg rolls, pork and seeds, special fried rice, Mongolian beef and Thai chicken--washed down with about a gallon of Coca-Cola. For dessert, I'd like a few slices of sharp cheddar with a crisp fuji apple. However, if I was dying on a Sunday and House of Kim was closed, then I'd have teriyaki beef jerky and a glass of very cold chocolate milk (the kind you buy in premixed cartons at the store).
Amy Atkins--Copious amounts of sushi (a hundred different varieties), a vat of macaroni and cheese, triple-cheese flavored Doritos, buttery chocolate chip cookies, chocolate bread pudding from The MilkyWay, several bloody marys full of garlic-stuffed green olives (not too spicy) and coffee with real cream.
Jessi Strong--Sushi, my grandma's chocolate pie and champagne.
Nancy Spittle--I would have to go with my favorite breakfast for my last supper: Jimmy Dean sausage scrambled with eggs, sourdough toast soaked with butter and a small glass of 2 percent milk.
Sally Barnes--There would be no question in my mind. I'd have shark fin soup and chili crab.
Nicholas Collias-- To start, a dry gin martini, stirred, not shaken. Then I'll continue warming up with one of the heart of palm salads they used to sell at Peter Schott's Restaurant--before it closed down. For a slight twist, I'll drape a couple of white anchovies on. With it, I'll have a cup of my mother's watercress soup, four fresh oysters on the half shell and a round of escargots. For the main course, I'll tear into a leg of lamb on the rare side of medium rare, no mint jelly, a heap of my grandmother's red orzo flavored with lamb drippings and a large order of mound steak carpaccio with shaved parmesan and hard-boiled egg. And then I'll have a little homemade macaroni and cheese, just for kicks. And some Thanksgiving stuffing. For libations, I'll suck down a pint of whole milk and a pint of Bitch Creek ESB from Grand Teton Brewing. For dessert, I'll have a piece of yellow cake with penuche icing, a piece of peach pie, a double-shot of espresso and a glass of scotch. Then I'll start on the sushi.
Bingo Barnes-- Last meal. Let's see ... jalapeno shrimp bites from The MilkyWay. Gamekeeper prawns from the Gamekeeper. A plate of assorted sushi--mostly hamachi and tobiko. A Canadian bacon and mushroom pizza from Guido's. And about a dozen of Pat Carden's 10-Minute Martinis from The MilkyWay continuously filling my Holy Grail. For desert, I'll take a whole coconut cream pie and a Brandy Alexander.
Tyler Bush--If I had to have a last supper, it would be at Wolf Lodge in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, with all of my friends. The Wolf Lodge is the kind of place that resembles an old hunting lodge and they have the best steaks you could ever eat. It's the one place that I have to visit every time I go back home to visit my father. They have everything you could imagine and in large quantities, and you definitely have a hard time finishing everything on your plate. And yes, I have even tried the Rocky Mountain Oysters.
Juliana Doherty-- Were it my last supper, I would arrange for a sampling platter of mama's tasty cookins. A mini estorida smothered in sauce, spicy sausage jambalaya and chicken a la king beside an obscene portion of homemade cookies and cream ice cream. And a Pabst in a bottle, please.
Phil Merrell--Veggie stir-fry, sweet potato pie, Blue Sky Cola and a mint.
Emina Musanovic--My last meal would be pure nostalgia. A meal that no longer exists, has never really been, but is a sentimental conglomerate of my life as is, and life as I imagine it was. For my last meal I would request scrambled eggs the way my grandmother used to make them: made especially for her granddaughter--a particularly picky eater, distressed by the mere sight of most food--these scrambled eggs were a mix of egg yolks, homemade creme fraiche and loads of butter. It is a recipe no one has been able to replicate, considering that the main ingredient, the comfort and the company of my grandmother, is missing.
Rachael Daigle--I love food and love to eat, so I would need a nibble of many things. Because ambience is important, I would choose to dine at the Mango Rooms in Hoi An, Vietnam. I would start with a cheese plate and just a few bites of caviar with a dry Grey Goose martini. Dinner would be a can of Hawaiian Sun Pineapple Orange juice, my mom's taco dip, one of her tacos and a scoop of her macaroni salad, a little slice of garlic-stuffed filet mignon from the Star Hotel in Elko, Nevada, meat jun from Soon's Korean BBQ in Aiea, Hawaii, a volcano from Shige, thick slices of heirloom tomatoes and anything the chef of Mango Rooms concocted. I would only take a few bites of each because dessert is very important. I would have black coffee, New York cheesecake, molten lava cake from Gado Gado in Bali, a lobster tail pastry from Ferrara in Manhattan's Little Italy and my mom's oatmeal cookie dough. And maybe some papaya and Guinness in there somewhere.
Blake Green--A goblet of the finest darkest brew. A large feast of fruits, strong spirits, a leg of cattle and a fair maiden.
Stan Jackson--Back in the '40s, there was no such thing as what we commonly refer to now as "school lunches." One either had to brown bag it or go home for lunch, and since I only lived three blocks from Longfellow Elementary, I chose to walk home. I would often smell the aroma of what my mother had prepared for that day from a block away. My all time favorite lunch was her incredibly sumptuous homemade potato soup, along with a few warmed up flour tortillas brushed with butter and a bottomless glass of chocolate milk.
Leila Ramella--I would ask for my last meal to be a surprise. With a few caveats: absolutely no pickles or condiments allowed.
Cory Robertson--One Grinder (# 14) from Mancino's and one case of Miller High Life.