Gourmet editor-in-chief, Ruth Reichl, is in Seattle and craving geoduck

Photo by Brigitte Lacombe

From 1993 to 1999 it would have taken the most super of sleuths to spot Ruth Reichl in a restaurant. As the most important restaurant critic in the world, it was paramount that Reichl remain anonymous while nibbling on gougeres at Daniel or Chilean sea bass at Tavern on the Green. So she pranced around New York City, in elaborate costumes and stage makeup, reviewing the city's upper crust restaurants from under the fringe of a sassy black wig one night, and a dowdy gray number the next.

But this weekend, you might very well spot the former restaurant critic, and current editor of Gourmet magazine, in a Seattle restaurant – wearing her own clothes and rocking her signature (and real!), shock of curly black hair. She's in town promoting her new book, and I caught a quick chat with Reichl at Capitol Hill's Olivar, where she answered an hour's worth of questions posed by a room of Seattle foodies.

My favorite question:

If you were going to be executed tomorrow, what would be your last meal?

It's by no means an original question, but it remains a fascinating one; one that reveals more about a person than their Facebook profile ever could. It's a question I ponder constantly, one that sends me into fits of anxiety, one I fear I'll never answer quite right: what is the absolute, most perfect meal?!

But Reichl did not break out into hives, she did not start to uncontrollably sweat; she calmly stated that her Last Meal changes from day to day, and if she must enjoy it tonight, in Seattle, she'd choose to dine on simple, seasonal, foods native to the Pacific Northwest.

Cool, crisp local oysters would kick off the bittersweet meal. Then, as a “giant clam lover,” she'd have to indulge in a “large pile of geoduck sushi.” Up next, “a great grilled steak - a T-bone - so I can gnaw on the bone.” She'd like to crunch on a “great pile of asparagus” drizzled with aged balsamic and a “lovely little salad.” It would be impossible for her to leave this life without one last lick of sea urchin, and for dessert, she'd end with “a perfect peach.”

The audience audibly sighed with contentment as soon as the word peach passed through her lips. Writing about food for decades, Reichl said she's confident her words have the power to make people hungry, and apparently her public speaking has the same effect.

Luckily, Olivar's Chef Philippe Thomelin was quick to churn out some lovely little bites, including a tiny cup of luscious chocolate mousse, tinged with salt, and unusually and most effectively garnished with a slice of pan-fried chorizo.

It may not make my Last Meal list (Chinese hand shaven noodles and a wedge of stinky, oozy cheese certainly did), but the dessert was a lot like Reichl's writing: a little bit sweet, a little bit salty, and always garnished with something unexpected.

By the way, what would your Last Meal be?

For more information: Check out My Last Supper, a book featuring the Last Meals of top chefs from around the world.