Patrick Clark, aged 42, chef at the Tavern on the Green in Central Park, New York, died February 12, 1998 in Princeton, N.J. Last December, Mr Clark had checked into a Manhattan hospital for a heart transplant. He expected to stay in that hospital for at least two months, till a heart became available. It turned out that he was ineligible. After a few months at home, he died of congestive heart failure.
     Mr. Clark, one of the first black celebrity chefs, was a pioneer of regional food and light, healthy cooking ("nouvelle cuisine"). His story may help cancer patients, too, put their quest for a healthy diet in perspective. Everyone eats to live; and when illness strikes, the quest for healthy diet can become all-consuming. Yet most people want eating well to be a pleasure. Mr. Clark, while aware that no diet was sufficient to keep him alive, as a patient was a food activist. He cooked for himself even in hospital.
      When he entered Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center, he was so unimpressed with the meals that he had his agent and his wife smuggle equipment and ingredients into his room. His first, fragrant in-hospital dish was Lemon Chicken with Garlic Cauliflower. Next day, he made the cauliflower again.
     Reading Patrick Clark's story while he was still waiting for a heart reminded me of a chef my husband and I met last spring in Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center. This man, who was taking intravenous Taxol for prostate and bladder cancer, had worked in Greenwich Village. For him, cooking was a far-off activity, but he could reminisce.
     One morning this man's niece came by with The Best of Gourmet for 1997. Turning the glossy pages as he lay hooked to his IV, he read recipe titles out loud. "Steamed Mussels with Orange, Fennel, and Garlic. Steamed Portabello Mushrooms. London Broil. Tenderloin (pink not red). Figs with Pesto."
      "I'm going to send away for this book," he said.
      "This is your book," she said, "take it."
      "If I'm going to waste my time baking," he said, "I want to make good food. You know grandma used to make that shrimp with the sauce, salsa verde? Chicken Savoy, that was my specialty."
      "Do you eat that new mesclun salad?"
      "Never had it."
     "Life is short," he said suddenly, "and death is forever."
      "Donna," he said as she gazed out the eighth floor window onto York Avenue, ready to leave, "If you go to Italy, go to good places. Otherwise don't even waste your time. I'm telling you. Eat good foods and drink good wines. If you love someone, say so. If you hurt, say so." She kissed him, left the cookbook beside his bed, and drove home to Jersey. 

See also The World Of Barbara Tropp: In the face of critical illness, this ... chef continues to follow her `Asian dreams.' Janet Fletcher, San Franscisco Chronicle January 20 1999. The story includes some fine Chinese recipes.