What would YOU choose for your last meal? Nigella picks clam linguine

Nigella Lawson claims it’s the question everyone asks her: as a famous food-lover and cookery writer, what would she choose to eat if it were her last meal on Earth?

And last week, she finally revealed the menu. 

‘Avocado with something, anything, to start things off, then linguine with clams in white wine sauce with chilli and garlic . . . lemony roast chicken with loads of gorgeous vegetables like kale, peas, spinach,’ she said.

Then there were the potatoes — in all forms because, as Nigella pointed out, ‘there’s no need to worry about carbs if I’m about to die.’

To follow would be a steak — with more chips, naturally — and a fennel salad. 

‘For dessert it’s ‘blackberries with heavy cream, some cookies on the side, a giant wedge of stinking gorgonzola so ripe it walks off the table, and toffees, lots of toffees.’ 

It’s a mouth-watering feast — and Kathryn Knight finds out if other chefs can match it. . . 

Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall is a food writer and TV presenter who founded the River Cottage brand 20 years ago.

My last meal would have to take place with my family and a few friends in West Dorset, by a friend’s pond that we love to swim in.

We would start with some raw veg from the garden — ideally baby peas, broad beans and carrots — then a few spears of asparagus with home-made mayonnaise, spiked with garlic and anchovies, to dip them in.

To follow, we would barbecue mackerel (with luck we’ve caught it ourselves) with handfuls of bay leaves thrown on the hot charcoal, and yet more veg from the garden —slices of courgettes, fennel, spring onions, char-striped on the barbie.

Potatoes would be boiled on a camping stove, then tossed in melted butter, with mint and chives.

Pudding would be honey and almond cake with fresh home-grown raspberries and vanilla ice cream.

We would mostly be drinking cider, although we might have a nip of whisky with our hot coffee when we get out of the pond. There’s no music, just birdsong and laughter.

Raymond Blanc OBE is chef proprietor of the renowned Belmond Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons in Oxfordshire.

I would have to start with a cheese souffle as this represents the true flavours of my Franche-Comtehomeland. 

You cannot beat a truly melt-in-the-mouth, light-as-air Comte cheese souffle.

In Provence, one of my favourite food markets is at Sanary-sur-Mer, where there are stalls selling beautiful slow-cooked squid, bouillabaisse, bourride [a garlicky fish stew] and country bread. 

Simple, relaxed and informal, this is somewhere I would enjoy chatting with family and friends while eating the freshest food.

Right now, my favourite main course would be a sumptuous bouillabaisse.

A favourite dessert is difficult, but I have to opt for tarte tatin, with its dark and sticky caramel, sweet apples and crisp pastry. Perfection!

I would wash it down with a pinot noir, my favourite grape, whether simple or expensive. I like a rich Bordeaux or a 1999 Chateau Montus. To round off would be a glass of vin jaune, which has so much character from barrel-ageing that it makes it the perfect pairing for that final slice of Comte cheese.

James Martin is one of Britain’s most popular chefs, TV presenters and food writers, whose latest book is James Martin’s Great British Adventure.

I would have to meddle a bit with the space-time continuum and embark on a gastronomic tour of some of my favourite restaurants in the UK.

To start, I would head for Paul Ainsworth’s restaurant in Cornwall where I would order his wonderful scallops served with kimchi.

Then I would zoom to the Waterside Inn in Bray, Berkshire, to partake of their famed lobster dish which comes with a white port sauce and ginger-flavoured vegetable julienne — so divine it has never been off their menu. 

Then I would dash up to Sat Bains in Nottingham to indulge in the baked-potato dish, served with caviar.

If I could also sneak in a visit to Gareth Ward at Ynyshir in Wales for his amazing wagyu beef, dry-aged for up to 300 days, then my main course palate would be sated.

For dessert I would turn to Claude Bosi at Bibendum — a genius who could serve me anything he wished.

To drink? Foragers gin to kick off followed by a crisp white Burgundy and then a bottle of Italian Gaja red wine.

I’d end the day on a simpler note at my mother’s home in Yorkshire drinking a bottle of the lager she always buys for me on one of her bi-annual shopping trips to Harrods in central London — and insists on serving on a tray. Bliss!

Jean Christophe Novelli is an award-winning French chef who runs the Novelli Academy.

A few years back I took part in a survival documentary on the top of the Andes based on the film Alive. 

The weather conditions were extreme and we ended up without food for three long days.

But in the pocket of my snowsuit I found a peanut.

I rationed it by breaking it down into eight very tiny pieces and eating one every few hours.

Was it the best appetizer I have ever eaten? Of course not — but it was certainly the most memorable and desired. So if I could I would start by replicating that feeling.

Oddly, as a chef, when I think of my last meal, I think less of the food than the people I love most: my family.

We would return to the old place I grew up in until the age of five and where three of us lived in a single room.

Despite my prowess in the kitchen, my mother would be cooking one of her amazing dishes, including her signature tomato pasta sauce.

Alongside it we would drink a merlot from Stellenbosch called Spiced Route.

For dessert, I would hark back again to the olden days. When I was 14 and working as an excited young baker in a patisserie, I fell in love with religieuse a la creme, a delicious cake of choux pastry and succulent vanilla cream. It was so good I still remember licking the paper wrapping for hours.

Lisa Goodwin Allen is the Michelin-starred executive chef at Northcote Restaurant in Langho, Lancs.

For my last meal I would take over a restaurant called The Roundhouse in Cape Town, South Africa — for me the most beautiful part of the world with its amazing scenery, stunning weather and fabulous food — and also the place I married my husband.

I’d have an eclectic guest list with my family and a smattering of celebrities, from the singer Pink — I like her philosophical take on life — to the late Brazilian racing driver Ayrton Senna, a nod to my childhood surrounded by motors and fast cars.

The liquid backdrop would consist of a constant flow of vintage Ruinart Blanc de Blanc champagne, with gin and tonics for those who prefer.

I love cooking, so I’d have no problem producing my own feast.

To start would be my favourite French onion soup, albeit made with English onions — an underrated ingredient that deserves to be honoured. 

My main course would be steak and chips, but taken to the next level — chargrilled, aged, rare-breed beef, decadent smoked marrowbone; triple-cooked, crunchy yet fluffy chips and a silky bearnaise sauce.

And what better than apple pie to round it off?

Traditional it may be, but it’s my favourite for a reason.

I’d also serve a pick-and-mix of chocolate bars by way of petit fours, from peppermint crisps and Aero to Crunchies.

Sat Bains is chef-proprietor of the two-Michelin-starred restaurant Sat Bains with Rooms in Nottingham.

I wouldn’t mind having a bit of a mash-up. 

To start I’d have a dish that I have often enjoyed in France — roast foie gras with apple, spiced gingerbread and pickled turnip served with lemon confit and a syrup made from Banyuls, a fortified dessert wine.

We’re at home — I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else — and so for my main course I’d ask my lovely wife Amanda to step up. 

She makes the best fishfinger sandwich I’ve ever tasted, a mouth-watering layered stack of fishfingers, lettuce, jalapeno peppers, red onions, chicory and fennel, on buttered brown bread. 

I’ll put spicy Sriracha sauce on it — washed down with a bottle of a complex, powerful 1982 Lynch Bages red wine.

Dessert would be Heston Blumenthal’s Botrytis Cinerea from his Fat Duck restaurant — it refers to a kind of fungus that gives certain grapes their interesting flavour. It’s utterly delicious.

To round it off we’d head outside to our fire pit, where I’d smoke a Hoyo de Monterrey Epicure No: 2 Reserva Cosecha 2012 cigar while sipping on a beautiful Glenfarclas 1986 Sherry Cask single malt. I think I could go out happy after that.

Simon Hopkinson is an author, food critic and former chef, often hailed as ‘the food writer’s food writer’, a new edition of Simon’s book The Vegetarian Option is published by Quadrille.

To begin, I would like a sandwich made with the thinnest slices of very good country bread, a few wafer-thin slices of lardo di Colonnata, which is a delicious cured pork fat flavoured with rosemary and other herbs, with plenty of black truffles shaved over it.

Once assembled, each side of the sandwich would be brushed with melted butter then quietly grilled until gilded on each surface.

To follow, we’d have an entire poached turbot with hollandaise sauce, with freshly dug, tiny Cornish new potatoes. To finish would be a simple but beautifully effective dish of the ripest raspberries served with raw Guernsey cream.

There would be nothing simple about the wine, though: a superb white Burgundy with the sandwich and turbot — possibly Le Montrachet, Domaine de la Romanée Conti 1978. The average cost of a bottle is £6,328, but as it’s my last meal, who cares? For the raspberries, I’d have nothing less than a startlingly expensive 1921 Chateau d’Yquem.

As for the folk around the table? With me would be my best chef chum, Rowley Leigh, to appreciate both food and, particularly, the wine, plus the beloved food and wine writers, the late Richard Olney and Elizabeth David. Also there would be the fictional Tom Ripley, for his charm, good taste and danger, played by the astonishingly handsome Alain Delon in his role as Ripley, in Plein Soleil.

And where? The terrace of La Colombe d’Or, in Saint Paul de Vence, France, where Delon was a frequent visitor. 

PAUL AINSWORTH is chef-patron at Michelin-starred Paul Ainsworth at Number 6 in Padstow, Cornwall.

My last meal would be on the island of Mykonos in Greece, where my wife Emma and I had one of our most memorable holidays.

I’d wet the tastebuds with Offshore Pilsner lager by the Cornish brewery Sharp’s, then open a bottle of Camel Valley sparkling wine, a favourite of mine and a nod to my West Country home.

My starter would be Padstow crab lightly bound in mayonnaise with fat, juicy prawns sprinkled with fresh basil and lemon on chargrilled sourdough toast.

The main course is an all-out feast: a Sunday roast, cooked by Emma. We’d go for the triple: pot-roasted shoulder of lamb, a beautiful rib of beef and a brined, slow-cooked chicken with a carcass full of lemons and thyme that’s turned marmaladey by the end.

On the side would be crispy, beef- fat roasties, the cheesiest cauliflower cheese, oven-baked red cabbage in red wine and star anise, roasted carrots, broccoli and parsnips. 

Topping it off would be quartered red and white onions drizzled with olive oil, Cornish sea salt, pepper and sage and roasted under the beef in the trivet, washed down with a magnum of Chateau Les Forts De Latour.

For pudding we’d have tarte tatin, with condiments from Bird’s custard and Cornish clotted cream to vanilla ice cream. 

My last helping would be served alongside a beautiful slice of Barkham Blue cheese, a sweet and savoury combination I inherited from my Lancashire-born father. 

I’d end it all with a simple cup of tea made by Emma — and to hell with it: I’ll have a sugar in it.

Sabrina Ghayour hosts the cult supper club Sabrina’s Kitchen. Her newest book, Bazaar, is out this week.

For my last meal, I imagine myself somewhere warm, the sun on my face and the ocean lapping at my feet, sipping on a lime, honey and ginger margarita. 

Nina Simone is singing softly in the background.

As I’m Persian, I couldn’t possibly have a single dish to kick off my feast so I’d indulge myself with lots of little taster bites: a selection of warm breads with cheese and olives, aubergine dips, yoghurt, feta cheese and fresh herbs.

For the main course, I would barbecue fresh fish and shellfish brushed with flavoured butters, a myriad sweet, spicy, sour and salty sauces on the side. I would also rustle up a range of salads, including tomato and onion with herbs, and grilled corn with feta and chilli crusted to it.

It’s hard to imagine room for dessert, but it would be criminal not to have a raspberry and pistachio pavlova with vanilla cream and raspberry sauce.

To round things off it would have to be a 1988 Dom Perignon, a perfect vintage I’d be happy to savour as the very last thing I ever tasted. In fact, I’d drink it through the meal. 

Adam Byatt is a Michelin-starred chef who owns and runs Trinity restaurant in Clapham, south-west London.

No question about it: my last meal would be in Sardinia, a destination I return to time and again for its perfect marriage of food, culture and outlook.

I would head straight to a favourite restaurant of mine in the town of Alghero. It faces the sunset and from its al-fresco tables you can look down on the beach and the lapping water 20 metres below. I’d pack the place with all my relatives and the chefs who’ve worked with me over the years.

I’d whet the appetite with sea urchins which we would have caught that afternoon while snorkelling, followed by a black risotto with cuttlefish and a whole seabass baked in a salt crust, with bottarga (mullet roe) spaghetti on the side.

To follow, I’d serve a beautiful Sardinian roast goat, cooked over an open fire, with a simple salsa verde, washed down with lashings of Cannonau, a delicious Sicilian red wine.

A selection of local cheeses would bring our dinner to a close, served with ‘music paper’, the traditional Sardinian flatbread, and mirto, the delicious – but rather deadly – local liqueur. And if I could, I’d have Frank Sinatra sing My Way in the background – I’d go out on that.