“From 9 January to 14 February [the Noma chef René] Redzepi will be taking his New Nordic Cuisine to the Mandarin Oriental, Tokyo. He won’t be using any Danish ingredients. Instead, he’ll be turning Japanese and using exclusively local produce.” —The Guardian.

Having wrapped up in Tokyo, the chef René Redzepi prepares a twelve-course meal using ingredients foraged from my New York City studio apartment.

Course One: Freshly uncanned tuna on a rehydrated cracker.

Using one of the apartment’s most plentiful resources, our chefs will infuse a serving of (dolphin-safe) Chicken of the Sea with Hellman’s reduced-fat mayonnaise. A small dollop of this mixture will be served on a stale cracker revived in a flash bath of New York’s finest tap water. A simple amuse-bouche to open the palate and set expectations low.

Course Two: Apple, flossed three ways.

Diners will be instructed to floss with unflavored, unwaxed dental floss and then take a bite of apple, sliced paper-thin. Then they will floss with mint-flavored, waxed floss and take another bite. Then, some cinnamon-flavored satin floss. Notice the subtle differences?

Course Three: Oats slow-simmered with bitter brown sugar.

In line with our commitment to using seasonal ingredients, the star of this dish will be instant oatmeal, a winter breakfast food favored by locals. The oatmeal will be simmered with a five-by-seven-inch block of hardened brown sugar in hot water from a teapot acquired via the wedding registry of the resident’s current boyfriend and his ex-wife, imparting a touch of bitterness.

Course Four: Four-cheese soufflé.

We will beat some borderline-expired eggs into a soufflé mixture laced with peels of unstrung string cheese, a diced wheel of Mini Babybel (original flavor), a scoop of cottage cheese, and a shredded Kraft single.

Course Five: Small-batch pasta dressed with overaged feta.

The pasta—leftovers from five open boxes, of all different shapes and vintages—will be cooked four pieces at a time, mostly because the apartment dweller has only one (tiny) pot. The pasta portions will then be tossed with feta that is not visibly moldy.

Course Six: A shot of tequila.

To be consumed by chef, staff, and diners. Should act as a palate cleanser and a sedative and reduce grumbling from the kitchen about having agreed to make this meal in the first place.

Course Seven: Flavored shells.

The inspiration for this dish comes from the apartment dweller’s long-standing tradition of stumbling home obliterated, whipping up a box of Annie’s Shells and White Cheddar, and falling asleep on the couch with the bowl balanced in her hand. We elevate this traditional preparation by working with the same miniature pasta shells and uncolored, dehydrated cheddar, while removing the risk of burning down the apartment.

Course Eight: Margherita pizza from OTTO.

My staff will expertly order a dozen margherita pies from Mario Batali’s downtown enoteca/pizzeria, because I imagine by now we’ll all be fucking starving.

Course Nine: Hokkori pumpkin with cherry-wood oil and salted cherry blossoms.

Kidding! We’re probably just going to open another can of tuna.

Course Ten: More tequila!

Refill and repeat.

Course Eleven: Three Musketeers bar, unwrapped.

We will dig through the unopened bag of Halloween candy that has been sitting on the kitchen counter since October and present a Three Musketeers bar to each diner. It is recommended that the candy be eaten within thirty seconds of unwrapping, to experience it at its peak freshness—after this period, it devolves into a worse version of an already mediocre candy bar.

Course Twelve: Peachwich.

Canned peaches served over a Chipwich bought in 2012. I give up.

Bonus beverage pairing.

All courses will come with almost-sparkling water pairings, handcrafted in the apartment’s mostly broken SodaStream.