14 February 2017
Inflight Entertainment
Seared
Fillet of Beef with Garlic Mustard Seed Butter, with mushrooms, baby
carrot, green beans and sauteed potatoes. Or maybe Roast Duck
Breast with Cherry Sauce, with braised red cabbage, carrot, fine
beans and roasted potatoes. Or perhaps you prefer the Braised
Snapper Fillet in Black Bean sauce, with seasonal vegetables and egg
noodles? Followed by a Serendipity Mango Sorbet or a Black
Currant and Cheese Mousse Cake with vanilla ice cream?
Yes,
I am spoiled for choice in this most unusual of restaurants, situated
in a pressurized metal tube 11'000 meters above the Australian
outback, traveling at 900km/h on my return from the international
airport that is the furthest of any from my homebase.
This
is a long journey, and I am very fortunate to take it at the pointy
end of said metal tube, where the seats are well upholstered and the
legroom as ample as the wine list. For airlines need to justify the 5
– 10x premium they charge on those seats over the ones in the back,
which arrive at the destination just as fast and safe, albeit less
comfortably.
The
ability to stretch out and sleep on a flat surface is the main reason
why affluent travelers (or those with a stack of frequent flyer miles
to burn, wink wink) splurge on Business or even First Class. Above
and beyond that, though, there is the spectacle of the in-flight meal
service. The more exclusive the airline in question, the more
extravagant the catering provided.
On
this trip, I have been offered everything from a seasonal Imperial
Japanese kaiseki meal to an airborne version of Raclette,
to the braised Peking Duck from a separate “Book the Cook”
selection of special meals to be ordered in advance. Each airline I
have traveled with goes the extra mile to showcase regional
specialties, rare wines, exquisite tableware and generally elaborate
decorum.
Mother-of-pearl
caviar spoons? Check. Sterling silver saucière? Check. Electric
candlelight? Check. Cast-iron Japanese tea pots? But of course. If
you think the pilots' pre-departure checklist is exhaustive, you have
not spoken to the catering company.
No
matter how fancy the presentation, it ultimately remains airplane
food: Pre-cooked hours or days in advance, shock-frozen, reheated in
aluminum containers in a convection oven, plated in a tiny aircraft
galley, and consumed at cabin pressure and humidity that essentially
numbs your taste buds.
I love every moment of it! On a plane, I am the ultimate captive
audience, and what else would I have to do other than to enjoy the
spectacle of a multi-course meal? The sheer silliness, from the
exalted menu descriptions to the cornucopia of bowls, plates and
stemware, makes it so appealing. And observing how various national
carriers differ in delivering the same basic item (compare coffee
service on American, Austrian and Arab airlines) tells you more about
their respective cultures than any travel guide would.
United
offered “brown tea”, while Air China has a separate tea menu.
Turkish Airlines wheels a mezze cart down the aisle, while Swiss
comes around with boxes of chocolate. Asiana's flight attendants
prepared a table-side bibimbap for me, British Airways serves
(literally) High Tea. Singapore Airlines, which is responsible for
the wording at the beginning of this post, gives passengers a choice
between Krug and Dom Perignon champagnes. And Air Canada? To put it
kindly, its catering is as modest as its home country.
None
of this is relevant a few rows further back on an airplane, where the
choice, universally and unenviably, is between rubber chicken and
overcooked pasta. But for the lucky ones in seat 2A, what better way
could there be to pass the time aloft? Perhaps the caterer's logo at
the bottom of a recent Turkish Airlines menu says it best. It reads:
Gourmet Entertainment.
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