Oh, not fair. It's about a quarter to twelve, and I'm thinking about lunch -- leftover greek chicken from last night -- and about grocery shopping this afternoon. My whole diet is undergoing renovation, as I've been aroused from the denial surrounding my health; more on that later.
If I knew my next meal would be my last, I would want a rare-ish, thick steak, grilled/smoked by my dad in the ceramic barbecue we had years ago, baked potato and salad, cheesecake for dessert -- no, I take back the cheesecake. Homemade peach ice cream, even if I had to turn the crank. Maybe some of his smoked salmon for an appetizer, too. My best food memories are from long ago. I could get a decent approximation at a really good steak house, I guess.
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