MALE. 48 years old. Musician living in Hollywood. Born in London, England

About fifty metres from the gently lapping, moonlit ocean, a splendid house sits, with ample, cleverly designed out-door areas leading onto the beach. The dining area is neither indoors nor out, strictly speaking, but a little of both, apparently. The indoor part is where the piano is, naturally.

A perfect martini would be essential, smoked trout salad, fresh oysters, octopus carparccio, grilled sardines and prosciutto/parmagiano dates would be on the appetizer menu, along with Veuve and Gavi di Gavi in the beverage division. Perhaps one of those tiny soups as well. Pastas will include penne arrabiatta, spinach and ricotta gnudi and something with clams and mussels.

Striped sea bass will be grilled whole and served with sauteed spinachi, and Dover sole will be an option, but lobster won’t. In the meat division, there’ll be top steak fillets like at Vibrato, crispy duck cantonese style, and a few lamb cutlets with grilled portobella mushrooms, radicchio and aubergines. Reds would be a vintage Pomerol, an Ornellaia and a Masi Amerone.
Alfred Brendel might saunter over and breeze through a movement of a Schubert piano trio with Itzhak and one of his mates at some point, J.G. Ballard may be found chatting with D.H. Lawrence over a Cuban, as might David Mamet be spotted sharing a joke with Dom Irrera and Richard Prior, or indeed my old man and Benjamin Britten may well be conversing over a G&T. Guests would include family and friends, many of whom would perform something in some way. Oh, and there’d be a ping pong table somewhere, and a couple two tree dogs would be in residence.

Desserts? Erm… profiteroles, sorbets, berry soup with fruit, tiramisu, vanilla ice cream with esspresso on it. Cordon Bleu, Ornellaia Grapa, and Ramon Allones no. 2s to finish.
Massages would be provided on beds on the beach lit by candles and the moon, and the hot tub would be very large.

FEMALE. 25 years old. Musician/artist living in Venice California.

I suppose it would depend on why it would be my last supper...Because I was dying? Because it was the end of the world? Because I was moving to Mars and people on Mars don't need to eat? Because I was having my stomach replaced with a garbage disposal and my tongue replaced with a slug?

Either way, it would be very simple and involve my friends and family sitting around laughing and making music. It would be a perfect day, somewhere on some rolling hills with trees. The mountains and ocean would be both sparkling like diamonds and sapphires. We would be laying watching the clouds.

Now the food part is the hardest. Especially right now in my life when I am trying out different styles and approaches to eating. Lately I have been eating a lot of raw food, which I find absolutely amazing. But, it does lack some certain qualities (of course) that can make it a little boring after a while. I suppose the food wouldn't be the most important part of the supper because I wouldn't want to take away from the essence of the gathering: friendship and love.

I think a bottle of very good red wine and the crispiest, juiciest apples anyone has ever tasted. We'd eat our apples and all fall back on the grass staring up at the sky, watching it change from blueberry blue to a deep plum, and then liquorice black. The stars would start to fall, like little droplets, into our mouths.

MALE. 31 years old. Freelance in TV industry living in los Angeles. Born in California, raised in Ohio

I'm not that creative and it took me a long time to think of favorite foods, especially b/c I'm burnt out on things like lasagna, and spaghetti, really. I like many different types of food, so it's hard. Anyway, my ideal last dinner would be with my future wife or girlfriend at a private restaurant secluded in the mountains overlooking an ocean or a lake (e.g. Lake Como, Italy). The meal would have a small garden salad to start, chicago style deep dish pizza with onions, green peppers, pepperoni, mushrooms, proscuotto, and the finest mozzarella. Peach cobbler or apple cobbler with ice cream for dessert. To drink, wine, grape juice, and creme soda (orange or red). During the meal, I'd want to hear a mix cd of all of our favorite songs.

This is a hard question to answer - there's so many foods, so many settings, and much music to pick from it's crazy.

MALE. 26 years old. Story producer living in Hollywood. Born in Florida, USA

Given the hypothetical situation of knowing the cosmic fate of one’s own demise, I can come up with two situations which would unfold. The first would be the reality; painstakingly watching the seconds tick away, while beads of sweat trickle down my forehead. Like a nervous patient in a doctor’s office, I would wait for the dreaded hour of my passing. My anxiety would win against my patience and willing acceptance.

The second situation would be how I would like to spend my final moments. I would want it to be serene and peaceful. A perfect example would be watching the magnificent sunset over the gulf in Key West -close enough to have an endless view and smell the cool salty breeze. A small table covered with a simple white cloth would border the sandy beach.

Dinner would be one of my favorites. A rare sirloin steak, coupled with a baked potato and juicy vegetables. There would be a wide assortment of cabernet of my own selection.

I would ask my parents to join me in my dinner. Both of them were around for my birth, so it would seem appropriate that they stick around for the end. I would want to know if my life was justified and they would be the two people who could give me the honest answer. Though I feel I would be letting them down by not continuing past the evening, they would be the only people I’d feel comfortable asking, “Did I do good? Did I live an enriched and fulfilling life? Do I make you proud?”

Knowing the answer to those questions which would make the evening worthwhile for me, no matter what the location, food or atmosphere would be.