It might sound morbid to some that the menus from the Titanic should have been compiled into a book, including those from the infamous evening of 14 April 1912, when it really was last orders all round.
But people have always taken an understandable if superstitious interest in "last things", such as parting words – all those adieus from executioner's blocks come to mind – and meals. How much art sprang from the Last Supper?
No wonder recreating the last supper on the world's most famous liner has a sinister, compelling appeal to it – the culinary equivalent to holding a séance. This is especially because the menus cast us back to an age of elegant excess that clearly predated any knowledge of carbs. (Dinner in First Class was 11 courses). Sauté of Chicken Lyonnaise, sir? No, I'll try the roast squab. Ah, excellent choice, sir, it will go down nicely, a meal to die for. Yes, it's thoroughly bad taste, but deliciously bad taste for all that.