Or if we’re not allowing foods that grant immortality, I’d ask for the deadening potion supposedly used by voodoo practitioners to fake peoples death so that they could be dug up and used for zombies. Course, I’d need someone I trusted to dig me up once they buried me.
Willy Wonka’s Everlasting Gobstopper.
Roast rump of tree-dwelling elephant with ecstasy sauce with a side of gnat’s kidneys.
It would take years and the lives of countless people to get the ingredients. And there is only one source of ecstasy sauce, and that’s well guarded by Abner and Mammy.
Some of that delicious λοπαδοτεμαχοσελαχογαλεοκρανιολειψανοδριμυποτριμματοσιλφιοκαραβομελιτοκατακεχυμενοκιχλεπικοσσυφοφαττοπεριστεραλεκτρυονοπτοκεφαλλιοκιγκλοπελειολαγῳοσιραιοβαφητραγανοπτερύγων – just the act of ordering prolongs my life slightly.
Unless the warden is named Johansson or the like, I can probably slip by an order for apple pie made with the Apples of Idun. I’m reasonably sure it will get through because Loki is a drinking buddy of mine, and he owes me a few.
I want one of those gigantic yard-long lobsters that were considered food fit for only the poor people, back in the days of the Puritans.
I’ll take bagna cauda. It’s not fictional, but I learned about it on a television series, Babylon 5.
After eating it it’s quite possible my breath would knock out those closest to me and I could escape.
Farmer Maggot’s mushrooms as prepared by Mrs. Maggot (brought to me in a covered basket, of course…with a bottle of wine, of course.)
I’d ask for the same menu that Charles Dickens was served during his visit to the U.S. at Delmonicos in New York, prepared by chef Charles Ranhoffer.
1st choise: Whatever Jesus ate at his Last Supper. I’m thinking it had resurrectional herbs in it.
2nd choice: Romulan Ale and with some green eggs and ham.
3rd Choice: Soylent Green!
(Yeah, I’ll admit my first thought was “Ambrosia,” too…and my second thought was that I was probably going to get executed by mincing, and then buried at sea. So I’d get to spend eternity as semi-digested chum. :eek: )
For the record, if one can find a universe where the Unicorns are in fact totally mundane creatures, or actually evil, would Unicorn steak be acceptable?
A box of chocolates from the Whizzo Chocolate Company.
Perhaps this is overly sentimental, but I’d like my grandmother’s sauerbraten dinner, complete with potato pancakes and red cabbage, with the gravy made with crushed up gingersnaps.
She used to make it every year for my grandfather’s birthday, but we haven’t had it in over a decade due to her failing health (and now Alzheimer’s.) No one else can make it quite like her. I’d like it just once more. Especially if Grandpa (died in 1998) could be there to carve the meat while I “stole” snitzels from the platter… 
Out of spite, I’d finish my meal with a wafer-thin mint.
A Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster. So I couldn’t be considered competent for execution.
I would order lembas but I would request to wash it down with a Pan-galactic gargle blaster. If the warden couldn’t, for whatever reason, violate the laws of physics necessary to mix a Pan-galactic gargle blaster on earth I would settle for the drink that Tom Bombadil gave to the hobbits.
I’m a simple man with simple tastes. I’ll just have a Taco Town Taco, hold the refried beans.
How 'bout a Duff Beer, or a Slushie?
Absolutely, if you can stomach the fact that the cross-section of Unicorn meat is rainbow colored. With sparkles and magic.
Breast of newborn Pheonix