Saturday 5 November 2011

Cheaper that way.

When Chapman pulled the trigger it's entirely possible he was in the middle of contemplating what to have for dinner that evening. He was, after all, on one of London's premier thoroughfares for haute cuisine. It would have been only natural.

When Lennon went down screaming and clutching his left knee I'd imagine that a nice leg of lamb might have come to mind. Seasoned with rosemary and anchovies embedded in slits in the skin, it would mark the perfect end to a cold January evening such as this. On a Sunday too; perfect for a roast.

The second bullet though, ripping the unfortunate singer's stomach open, would undoubtedly conjure the spectre of offal. Certainly there was ample opportunity on Charlotte Street for a foie gras starter but I tend to think he would have gone for something more substantial. I have in mind duck livers, yes, but curried, heavy on the cumin, in a thick sauce, whole green chilis bobbing to the surface.

When the third and final bullet exploded through the barest beginnings of a bald patch the Italian implication must have been undeniable. It's known that Chapman was partial to a pasta dish and a conventional bolognese may have been all that was required to round off what was certainly an unconventional day.

It is, of course, entirely possible that he already had in mind what he would be eating in advance of these events. He was, after all, a meticulous planner, every detail packed with metaphor and innuendo. A head waiter of a nearby establishment may have finally lost patience an hour or so after the arrival of the police and opened up the small corner table to walk ins. These are things we may never know.

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