Somewhere over the Atlantic, the tedium of air travel was relieved by the unceremonious distribution of foodkits known as the in-flight dinner. Fish for him, chicken for Her, for the sake of a little variety in the report.
SHE SAYS: I hate flying, but flying on BA is slightly less miserable than with most airlines. The nosh was ok, nothing abominable, but I would give the Pepperwood Grove syrah a miss next time. As for the tarragon chicken pack, it had that stewy cafeteria taste, and the limp green bnz soaked up all the tarragon flavouring. Potatoes, to their credit, had a slight hint of butter and were not mushy. Gravy was straight outta Picadilly C.Salad, however, was a nice surprise, being a mound of crab sumpin' sumpin' and some fancy leaves, which I piled on the 'rough oatcakes' supplied. 'Summerfruits trifle' tasted mostly of milk powder and sugar, but gained points for whole redcurrants. Saved the bit of biscuity choc for laters.
HE SAYS: I opted for the fish pie because I still felt a little 'chickened out' from last nite's chicken fest, and also because crispy breadcrumb topping sounded like a can't-lose scenario. Overall it tasted like a creamy fish finger - not horrible, but nothing spesh either. I touched it up with a sprinkle of salt and forgave its blandness on account of it being plane (and plain) food.
The wheat-free cracker was also taste-free, and the fishy paste a little light on intensity. I thought the summerfruits trifle fared better, satisfying a need for a light, sugary diversion. Unlike Her, I ate me after-dinner chocolate and I ain't regretting it one bit - ok, maybe a little now my tea has arrived and I'm yearning for a dunkin' moment.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment