The girls from Amayzine laughed at me a little when I pulled out my Tupperware containers during our flight to New York, but looked enviously again when they saw that I was nibbling on a homemade banana bread. Except for Lies, because she is counting down the days until she can finally peel off the foil from the plastic container with four compartments. By the way, the pastas are too much for her as well, but when a chicken dish is served, she stands on her chair. “Oh yes, and those tasteless biscuits with plastic cheese, they are so delicious.” Thus Lies.
I really don't understand how it is possible that airplane food can be so incredibly inedible. How hard can it be, you would say?
Fortunately, there is Jonnie Boer who prepares business class meals for KLM and gave me the enlightening answers in an interview on http://munchies.vice.com/.
“It has everything to do with acids. They don't cook well with that up there. Our taste perception is different at high altitude – a sandwich only becomes tasty on an airplane when there is mayonnaise on it with a nice vinegar in it or when you throw in some pickled onions. By playing with acids, an airplane meal can become so much tastier, which the chefs often still don't understand.”
Then I immediately think: what kind of chef are you then? Look, Jonnie Boer is of course a kind of hero in the kitchen, but how long has food been served on an airplane and how much does a splash of vinegar or a squeeze of lemon cost?
Jonnie believes that the chefs just think way too complicated. They want to create very spectacular dishes that are specially appreciated by travelers, and then they no longer pay attention to what it's really about: what you taste best in the air. People just want something small that they can eat quickly and then take a nice nap.
Now I have never flown business class in my life, but besides a nice bed and champagne beforehand, I now especially want to spend all my savings (if I had any) on a quick flight with Jonnie and there is no way I would take my Tupperware containers with me. I thought.
“As a starter, for example, there is a soup of garden peas with croutons and a cream of smoked salmon with Baharat spices, pickled cucumber, onion, and goat cheese in a dressing of smoked beets. There is also a mixed salad with quinoa, croutons, and citrus-wasabi dressing. As a main course, people can choose between chicken in Thai red curry sauce with pasta, bell pepper, pickled vegetables, and celery puree or cod in a spicy sauce with lentils, carrots, beets, celery, and pickled onions. Additionally, there is also the option of spicy meatballs in sesame sauce with couscous, almonds, and sweet-sour vegetables.”
Okay. Wow. Phew, I still see such a plastic container with four compartments in front of me. Why not just keep it simple? I believe I would rather bring my own things. Or am I really just a total sourpuss now?



