Barring few quickly
disappearing examples, like Emirates etc, airlines food is nothing
to be cherished about. Knowing that well, I did not start with a
high expectation when I board my United flight from Chicago to
Frankfurt. It was a cold sunny day little above freezing and we started after a little delay. As usual, the sitting arrangement was rather
crampy. In my favor, however, I got a skinny dude next to me.
Before I could chill down a lil and choose between sleeping and
watching a movie in the touch screen, airlines paused passenger
screens to show an advertisement: fair enough, it happens. The clip was rather interesting, let me describe; some suited
booted CEO of United showed up with a revelation that they got the
best chefs around the world to make our flight a unique culinary
experience. Interwoven cut scenes followed with chefs boasting while performing various important activities in kitchen like putting things in and
out of oven, cutting veggies, playing with woks and sushis etc. I
guess there were only two and half of of them: one Indian guy and
one white dude and a glimpse of a Japanese man; all of them dressed
in bright white uniform looked like doctors. They concluded the clip
with a grand vision of an airplane taking off. Cool ! my hopes
rose high.
When I came to USA for the first
time; one acute cultural shock I had was to come across the “CEO
styled advertisement; where well dressed high officials of a company
come up to promote the very product they are selling. Generally it
starts and ends with an assurance of how ardently the company is
committed to our service. To me, it struck as the least credible
way to convince people, but apparently it worked: Americans do love
their aging power horses in fine uniforms.
Now, don't get me wrong:
I ain't no lefty, but take a heed 'bout safety,
You know, on a CEO , you
can not depend, Do so bro and you got to repent.
A brute with a suit is
ready for the loot. Better hide your fruit,
and don't get smitten.
Two long years apparently
ebbed my initial skepticisms, I soon found myself sleeping with a
pleasant assurance of imminent ambrosia. My fellow passenger, the
skinny dude, woke me up when finally the food arrived: a basket of
dried lettuce and a kid's portion of cold overcooked ground beef
pasta. The main course was nicely complemented with a piece of gluey
inedible browny and a steal bread. World class chefs; my a** ! The
CEO and his beloved chef should choke on a sock while we stand by
to joke and mock -- only fitting punishment my raging primate brain
could think of. I managed to finish the half of the pasta after much
toil. I was hungry, I could not sleep. I browsed through the list of
movies. On the bright side I found an entertaining Hong-Kong movie:
Diva. Now I am jet-lagged.
