For my last meal, I'd want an Irish breakfast with soda bread and

“For my last meal, I’d want an Irish breakfast with soda bread and one of my dad’s omelettes with three or four eggs.” — Erin O’Connor

Thus spoke Erin O’Connor, the English-Irish model whose words, though simple, unveil the sacred bond between family, memory, and nourishment. In her reflection on a final meal, she does not name grand feasts or exotic delicacies; she names the food of her homeland and the cooking of her father. Her words remind us that in the end, the truest desires of the heart return not to luxury but to love, not to novelty but to roots. This is the wisdom of simplicity — that what we long for most deeply is not the abundance of the world, but the taste of belonging.

An Irish breakfast, rich with warmth and tradition, speaks not only of sustenance but of heritage. It is a meal born from the hands of a people who have known hunger and hardship, and yet who have learned to turn humble ingredients into comfort and strength. The soda bread, rustic and earthy, carries the history of a land that survived famine and forged identity through endurance. And in her father’s omelette — made, perhaps, in the quiet of morning, when the house still slept — there is the sweetness of memory: the aroma of safety, the sound of family, the love made tangible through care.

The origin of this quote comes not from philosophy or politics, but from the intimacy of personal truth. Erin O’Connor, known for her elegance and grace upon the world’s grandest runways, reveals in this statement the grounding force of her upbringing. Beneath the glamour and lights, she remembers the kitchen — the hum of familiarity, the hands that worked the stove, the laughter that filled the air. She speaks as one who understands that identity is not found in fame, but in the memories that shaped the soul. In the mention of her father’s omelette, there is both reverence and tenderness — a recognition that the food we love most carries the spirit of those who loved us first.

Throughout history, food has always been more than sustenance. It is ritual, story, and bond. Consider the tale of Odysseus, who, after years of wandering, longed not for gold or conquest but for the simple meal at his own hearth, beside his wife and child. The homecoming feast is sacred in every culture because it symbolizes what humanity cherishes most — reunion, forgiveness, and the comfort of shared life. Erin’s wish for her father’s cooking is an echo of this same longing: to return to the place of origin, to the warmth that existed before ambition, before the noise of the world.

Her words also remind us that greatness often ends in gratitude. The model, who has traveled through nations and tasted the luxuries of the world, would, for her final meal, return to the ordinary — to the humble Irish breakfast, to the hands of her father, to the taste of love. This is the final wisdom: that when the soul prepares to part from the world, it does not reach for the rare, but for the real. The great meals of the spirit are not found in fine restaurants, but at the family table, where affection seasons every dish and memory fills every silence.

Let this, then, be the lesson: cherish the small rituals that connect you to those you love. Do not wait until the end to taste the joy of simplicity. Eat together, speak together, laugh over bread and tea. For these moments, fleeting and fragile, become the treasures the heart recalls when all else fades. The food of your people, the touch of your family, the traditions passed down through generations — these are the true banquets of life.

And so, my child of the future, remember Erin O’Connor’s quiet wisdom. In a world that hungers for fame and forgets its roots, keep close the memory of your own table. Honor those who fed you — not only with food, but with care. When life grows loud, return to the simple meal that made you who you are. For in that moment, you will taste not only nourishment, but eternity — the eternal flavor of love remembered, the divine sweetness of home.