These morbid little menus had quite an unsettling effect on me (and they also led me to someone who is obviously less disturbed by it than I am). As someone who enjoys a love-love relationship with food, it didn't really take much effort at all to imagine the annihilating poignancy/horror of planning your own last meal. Or being someone with the words "Death Row Head Chef" on your bidness card.
1) Karl Hinze LaGrand. Two Bacon, Lettuce & Tomato sandwiches on white bread; mayonnaise; 4 fried eggs, over-easy; medium portion of hash-brown potatoes; 2 breakfast rolls; small portion of strawberry jelly. One half pint of pineapple sherbet ice cream, one 22 ounce of hot coffee, black, one medium slice of German chocolate cake with coconut-caramel icing, one 12 ounce cup of cold milk.
(note: his brother was executed 3 days later and also requested pineapple sherbet)
2) Baltazar, John. Cool Whip and cherries.
3) John George Brewer. Grilled Pork Chops with gravy; 1/4 lb. Bacon; 6 Fried breaded Shrimp; Beef Rice-a-Roni; 2-3 slices French Bread with butter; Applesauce; 2 cans Canada Dry Ginger Ale with ice; 1 slice Coconut Cream Pie; 1 pint orange juice; 1 can Chicken Noodle Soup with Crackers; 1 can Pear halves with syrup; Maxwell House Coffee with cream and sugar.
4) Chappell, William. Same meal that is served to all other offenders in the main dining room.
I could go on: the guys who requested only a pot of coffee, or water, or tea; the guy who requested 4 Rolaids (along with his meal...not just 4 Rolaids). The Arizona prisoners all requesting chile peppers. The "chewy" bacon. The "real" butter. All that fucking butter pecan ice cream.
The twist of the knife: these are just requests. They're not always granted. Oh, the humanity.
This is an occasionally NSFW, mostly gluten-free kitchen notebook that also occasionally threatens to turn into something else and fails, thus remaining its same old cryptic and superficial self. These posts begin to fail to explain (start at the bottom).