For the Lansing State Journal

If I were soon going to be history, my last meal would delve into my dining history. If sentenced to the grim prospect of an electric chair, lethal injection, hang man or firing squad, I would choose dishes from memorable kitchens. The food would provoke memories I had at historic restaurants. My whole life would be “dished up” right before my eyes.

I would start with three of the colorful (literally) 25-cent, candy-flavored martinis from Commander’s Palace, the turquoise and white-striped, circa-1893 mansion in the Garden District of New Orleans (three is their limit). Commanders Palace is also famous for its’ turtle soup, a rich, brown, roux-thickened, sherry-sweetened, creole concoction I probably dared to order only because I had slurped up the three mar

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