~11:00 CDT 20 July 2008I just did something I've never done before. I ate an omelet while flying 39K feet over Ontario.
The travel agent thankfully moved my seat from the back of economy (next to the lav) up to the front of economy but neglected to note a request for a vegetarian meal. I knew this before getting on the flight and brought some trail mix and pre-made bean and grain snack in a can, but I knew they wouldn't get me through 7.5 hours in the air on the way to London.
So as I watched an Indian family eat what looks to be a tasty vegan meal (though I wonder about that bagel), I got to choose between pancakes with scrambled eggs sitting on top of slices of ham and an omelet.
I've avoided omelets my whole life because I'm just not a big fan of eggs (nor of the egg-producing industry, but that came much later than my general dislike of the taste). Plus, omelets are pretty much eggs cooked in butter, right? Yuck. Sounds disturbingly fattening.
But this airline food "three cheese omelet" looked a little less buttery and came with roasted potatoes and mushrooms instead of dead pig, so I opted to give it a try.
It wasn't bad. I mean, it wasn't great, but it wasn't bad. Well, bad for me I'm sure, but not bad-tasting.
Incidentally, it came with a croissant, too. I haven't had a croissant since I was in France seven years ago. The logic being that if I'm going to consume that amount of calories, it better be the real thing. But something about being trapped on an airplane makes food more appealing than it would be elsewhere. As if I feel like this might be my last opportunity to ever eat, so I may as well go for it. I might need the energy on the island, you know. I even ate the honeydew melon. I don't even like honeydew melon. Later, I will likely eat something the package calls "pasteurized processed cheese spread." But, hey, they included a Toblerone in the package, as well. Sweet.
~14:00 CDT 20 July 2008I ate every last bit of that cheese spread crap as if it were my last meal. I thought it would be, but no, now I have pizza! A miniature deep dish-style cheese pizza with a salad and oil and vinegar dressing. I'm so pleased to see a salad that I'm not even going to complain that it's iceberg lettuce. To save on my carbs, I think I'll leave the pizza bones behind. And forsake the "oatmeal chewie," though I'm sticking that little guy in the backpack. I might need it on the island, after all. Luckily, I have a pointed nail file (now allowed on flights in carry on luggage, yet gel-filled insoles are not), so I can fight off anyone who tries to steal it from me.
~23:00 GMT 20 July 2008
Well, I made it to London after all. And I'm feeling quite guilty about all the junk I shoved into my facehole during the day. It's amazing what being bored and trapped in an airplane for seven and a half hours will do to your level of standards.
4 comments:
60K feet?! Holy crap. I hope they gave you oxygen with that croissant!
Oops! I meant to correct that. The pilot said thirty-nine thousand feet, but with that thick Chicago accent he had, I heard "fifty-nine thousand feet" and I didn't know any better. Ha!
That reminds me I should pack a lunch on my next long flight. Have a great time in london.
When we'd arrive back home in the UK and I would unload the purse and carryon totes, I would always find little morsels that Big Fella and Miss Sweet Cheeks had saved from the two airplane meals, wrapped and stashed, I guess just in case -- of what,I don't know. It's such mediocre food that you wonder why you'd bother to save it. Have a great time -- it's the perfect month to visit.
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