TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/031389/03138900.017

Text File | 1992-09-23 | 5.9 KB | 114 lines

                                                                                TRAVEL, Page 76

You Want Me to Eat THIS?


How frequent flyers frequently flee domestic-airline food


    Thirty thousand feet above the Pacific, the businessman
wakes from a peaceful sleep to find the flight attendant
placing a glass of Dom Perignon on his tray. "How would you like
your eggs, Mr. Kliman?" His eyes fall on the small and tasteful
burner resting atop her cart in the aisle. A sigh of
contentment. "Poached, please." Has he arrived in heaven? Or is
this merely Singapore Airlines?

    Thousands of miles away, on a U.S. domestic airliner,
another flight attendant strides down the aisle and deposits a
tiny tray of what is optimistically described as chicken Kiev. A
ragged strip of batter and bone soaked in an indeterminate
broth, nested in some wilted greens, alongside a piece of
cinder block with red gumdrop icing. A sigh of resignation. "On
the short hauls, I never eat anything," says John Downard, vice
president of Hoechst Celanese in Charlotte, N.C. "I look at
flying as an opportunity for fasting."

    There are travel agents who will argue that if such carriers
as Singapore Airlines, Lufthansa, Air France and Swissair were
allowed to fly the U.S. domestic routes, they could put a few
of America's airlines out of business. Ask any world travelers
about the difference in comfort and service and, particularly,
the quality of food, and many would say there is no contest.
U.S. carriers are notorious for serving meals that are poorly
conceived, badly prepared and sometimes unhealthy. By contrast,
the food on many non-U.S. carriers, even when catered by the
very same firms, is generally considered superior fare in both
quality and variety.

    A reputation for decent cuisine does not come cheap: thanks
in part to government subsidies, some foreign carriers are able
to spend up to five times as much per passenger on food than
U.S. airlines do. "Since deregulation," admits Robert Adamak,
manager of planning and development for Eastern, "the U.S.
airlines are putting on more snacks and perhaps using less
expensive products." Among domestic carriers, Alaska Airlines is
the most lavish ($7 a passenger), while USAir is the cheapest,
at $2.22. Foreign carriers, on the other hand, may spend as much
as $15, though the coming of European deregulation in 1992 may
dent the quality of even Air France's free-flowing champagne.

    In their defense, U.S. companies point to the large number
of passengers they must feed on relatively short flights. Most
carriers rely on a network of catering companies operating out
of kitchens at major airports. The largest, Marriott In-Flite
Services, prepares about 150 million meals a year on 150
different airlines -- including many foreign carriers. Thus
while passengers on U.S. domestic flights wrestle with their
rubbery entrees, Swissair passengers flying first class out of
Atlanta may sample smoked salmon, caviar, lobster medaillons,
foie gras, pan-fried trout or vacherin glace, among other
esoterica. Even Swissair's coach-class passengers are treated to
veal roast with walnut sauce and mocha mousse with kiwi -- and
all provided by Marriott.

    The U.S. carriers are not completely insensitive to the
groans of hungry passengers. As they compete for frequent
flyers, some companies are finding that decent food can help
promote passenger loyalty. Alaska Airlines has started
advertising that its "plane food isn't plain food." Researchers
at Chicago-based United sort through the garbage to see what is
regularly returned uneaten. One result: the airline in March
will stop serving canned fruit cocktail on all coach flights. In
April American will introduce a Heart Healthy menu approved by
the American Heart Association.

    At the same time, travelers are taking matters into their
own hands. Some have discovered the "special meals" that can be
ordered in advance and at least stand a chance of being fresher
and better prepared. The major carriers offer as many as 18
alternative menus, including kosher, Hindu, vegetarian, high
protein, no salt, low calorie, low cholesterol, diabetic and
children's. American's seafood plate is particularly popular
among veteran flyers. Special meals cost the companies more
because they require special handling and are not mass
produced. Says San Francisco businessman David Kliman: "It
allows me to choose what to eat rather than have it just dished
out."

    Some more duplicitous seasoned travelers order a special
meal when they make their reservation, then, if they like the
look of the regular meal once on board, deny that the special
order is for them. Likewise, there are the "double dippers,"
who savor the vegetarian entrees but lament the tiny portions.
They are known to make two reservations for special meals and
then ask the flight attendant if by any chance an extra veggie
entree has gone unclaimed. Since special orders are so
frequently fouled up anyway, either tactic is likely to beat the
system. But even if passengers get the meal they ordered, they
may wish they hadn't. Vegetarian meals, though not mystery meat,
may be mystery mush. Another ploy is a double setup: two sets
of rolls and salads and no main course at all.

    The only guarantee of a decent meal, some travelers insist,
is the brown bag. Manhattan's William Poll, sandwich purveyor to
the Upper East Side top crust, prepares at least 50 boxes a week
for his customers. On any given Monday morning, an arbitrager
on his way to the coast will stop by to pick up his deluxe,
shiny white box. Inside: beluga caviar on thinny-thin slices of
white bread, a wedge of brie, English biscuits, a string-bean
salad and a chocolate mousse. Fellow passengers look on
jealously, perhaps not suspecting that this discerning gent
finds $95 a small price to pay for being spared an airline
lunch.