I read a short story once about the woman who prepared prisoners’ last meals. I can’t find it now, which is a loss.
Some humus I think, a grilled chicken kebab with plenty of veg and probably a rhubarb fool to finish with. Coffee would be good, and the elderflower cordial is a good idea.
(But it depends what you’re in for of course. If you were on hunger strike it would be a pity to spoil it.)
Torafugu prepared by a novice. The executioner gets to go home early and maybe with a thought like “well at least I didn’t kill anyone today”. Considerate till the day I die, me.
from that dead man eating they’re not allowed alcohol which is a pity for your last meal.
If I was i’d be a proper scottish breakfast with haggis, pancakes, eggs, bacon and fried potatoes, massive mug of tea, followed by a good slug of single malt.