At Jersey City’s Liberty Science Center, guests experience the Titanic’s last meal
Preparing an exact 10-course re-creation of the last meal served on the Titanic might not seem the most obvious way to celebrate a new show about the ship. It’s at the Liberty Science Center in Jersey City through May.
After all, for the more than 1,500 people who died after the ocean liner stuck an iceberg April 14, 1912, dinner that night truly was their last supper.
Then again, the first-class passengers had no idea that tragedy was about to strike as they dined on consommé Olga with sliced scallops and lamb with mint sauce. So I decided to stifle my misgivings that the evening flirted with the macabre and enjoy myself as I joined Science Center supporters for dinner there last week.
The place settings were elegant but not from the White Star Line, the company that owned the vessel. Even though replica flatware, tumblers, mugs, toothpaste jars, T-shirts, and a plush 8-inch-tall bear outfitted like Edward J. Smith, the Titanic’s senior commander, were available in the gift shop directly across the hall from where we were chowing down.
While a Titanic lifeboat biscuit recently sold for £15,000 ($23,000) at auction, I didn’t see any branded snacks.
Before dinner started, I also dropped by the show, “Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition.” It includes 130 artifacts conserved from the ship’s debris field as well as a miniature interactive “iceberg” that lets you feel how cold the water was.
“Those who died, died from hypothermia,” explained Alexandra Klingelhofer, vice president of collections for Premier Exhibitions, the company that provided the exhibition.
I can’t say the news whetted my appetite.
Ditto “Our Hudson Home,” a nearby exhibit about the Hudson River’s ecosystem. It featured large, mean-looking fish swimming in a tank, and doubled as the dinner’s staging area.
“We think of this frozen moment in time, no pun intended,” Alex Guarnaschelli, one of the evening’s star chefs, told me, referring to the disaster.
She explained how the Titanic inspired her to shop for asparagus and edible flowers that morning, though the connection between the calamity and fresh produce seemed vague at best.
“I went to the market and bought anything I could find that felt Titanic-y,” Ms. Guarnaschelli added.
While she assured me that our third course—cold asparagus vinaigrette— was on the ship’s menu, I got the impression that she and Donatella Arpaia, the evening’s other chef, felt free to take liberties with the food’s presentation, which seemed to tend toward nouvelle cuisine.
Ms. Klingelhofer, seated at a nearby table during dinner, assured me the menu was accurate, even though there’s little documentation about the style in which it was served.
The way the evening unfolded is that each course was introduced by either Paul Hoffman, the Liberty Science Center’s president and CEO, or one of the chefs.
“Somebody asked how long the Titanic lasted” after it hit the iceberg, Mr. Hoffman said. (I believe his answer came between the Oysters Mignonette, on a bed of sea salt, and the soup course.) “Two hours. The musicians played for all two hours. Enjoy your next course.”
We had our own strings, Dolce DaVita, a quartet that kicked off the evening by serenading us with “My Heart Will Go On,” the theme from the blockbuster 1997 James Cameron “Titanic.”
Also at my table was William Tansey III, chairman of the science center’s trustees. Dr. Tansey, a cardiologist dressed in a vintage tux, as was Mr. Hoffman, regaled us with tales of his own, less chilly, crossing of the North Atlantic in 1972 as a submariner aboard the USS Stonewall Jackson.
“We had fresh lettuce,” Dr. Tansey recalled, sealing it with nitrogen and storing it in a missile tube.
Lemon-orange sorbet came as a relief after Course 5—your choice of lamb, roast duck or sirloin of beef—and then it was full steam ahead for four additional courses.
“They saved the best course for last,” Ms. Arpaia told us. She was referring to her poached salmon with mousseline sauce and cucumbers. The chef added that the Titanic carried 11,000 pounds of fresh fish. “Nobody realized it was the last course.”
Mr. Hoffman, ever the educator, felt the need to answer one last question. “Why wasn’t it frozen?” he said of the 28-degree Atlantic. “Salt water freezes at a different temperature.”
While I found that interesting, I can’t say it added a lot to my enjoyment of the Waldorf pudding and French ice cream served for dessert.
Write to Ralph Gardner Jr. at Ralph.Gardner@wsj.com