"Foodies!" shouts a large, be-khakied Mohegan Sun employee
to her friend as they meander by us. The methodical clanging beeps of the slot
machines almost drown out her voice. "They're all foodies. That's why they're
I stand on tiptoe and peer down the hefty line that is
snaking around the casino floor. Shit, I think. There sure are a lot of us.
Constructing a menu to herald the end of our corporeal
existence is not a task that most of us are often faced with. For chefs who spend
their day-to-day in a dreamy culinary realm filled with dishes heaped with
shaved truffle--and those same dishes piled in a dish pit--the last supper is
many things: humble, elaborate, somber, joyous, rustic and for most, simple.