What would your last meal be?

It's my favorite question to ask people. A stupid 'what if' question, sure, but a great one nonetheless. Other than sex, the act of eating is probably one of the most pleasurable experiences we as a species partake of on a regular basis. Of course, we can't always, but we'd love to be able to eat that great steak or two-foot high sandwich.

It's impossible to pinpoint one's favorite dish...it's like picking a favorite parent. It just won't happen. So, what's the difference between inquiring about a favorite dish and asking about an individual's death-row meal? Easy. Your last dish may not be the best thing you've ever eaten, or the most lavish, exotic plate you can wrap your mind around. Quite possibly, your last meal would be a comfort-based meal; one your mother prepared when you were younger, or that specific plate you order every time you visit your neighborhood dive.

I know that when I have to pick a final meal, assuming I have the teeth to still chew it, it'll be my grandmother's Mehshi, a Syrian Jewish dish of zucchini stuffed with ground beef, rice and spices, simmered long and slow in a sauce of dried apricots and figs. It's simple - I challenge you to find it on any restaurant menu - and it's a peasant food, but it's the last thing I want to digest if ever I have to make that decision.

So I ask you - what is that one meal so close to your heart that it's the last thing you ever want to eat?