airplane food - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Say what you want about airplane food, I look forward to it. In those hours that pass, sitting, sitting, sitting... even if there are movies or music... I look forward to eating that food. The tray is so stupid it makes me smirk, it's as if someone got a school dinner, shrank it and added a few plastic cups of whatever was at hand. So I eat it, I do.
When the food arrived I thanked the Gods that I'd chosen the vegan option. I eat meat, actually, I just don't eat double reheated meat. The meals around me looked like a strip of scorched leather next to a sad dollop of creamed potatoes. By comparison my bean stew looked positively gourmet. It was hardly slap-up meal portions, but it would fend off my hunger demons until we touched down.
A sandwich, a small square of cake and a plastic cup of water. Now the stewardesses returned, hastily collecting up the trays.
The airplane meal was like a bandaid on a severed limb. I could have eaten the meals from my entire row and still had room for dessert.
The airplane food must have been dreamed up by some catering school degenerate who scrapped through with a C plus and approved by some cooperate executive who only cares about the dollar amount per meal.
If I described my airplane food as starvation rations that would imply that it was in some way edible, and so instead I will describe it as a cross between styrofoam and leather covered in a gloopy gravy. It was a texture even my molars couldn't grind down into something swallowable.
The meal stared at me and I stared back at it. I glanced over the description of the airplane meal in the menu, the saliva inducing words that bore no resemblance to the sad specimen before me.
The aroma wafting from the first class area did not smell like the sad offering in front of me in cattle class. It was dehydrated and singed. I choked it down with the from-concentrate orange juice and grimaced.
The food sat as dejected on the plate as the passengers sat in their seats staring at it with their heavy red-fight eyes. It looked as if it had been reheated too many times and it had wilted with the excess heat. Even if the food had been more inviting the portion was child-size and so by eating it you risked becoming hungrier rather than satiated. The airplane shuddered as we hit some turbulence and the food jostled in it's tray.
The woman placed a small tray onto my table. I said "thank you," and carefully peeled of the layer of shiny aluminum foil covering my meal to retain heat. But then, I gasped as I saw the disgusting, revolting food in my little plastic container. A piece of chewy meat with the texture of gum was covered by a sheet of cold neon cheese that resembled plastic, with a side of brown vegetables. I looked at my neighbors tray. He had chosen the second option, pasta which looked delicious, covered by a smooth sauce and parmesan. My stomach growled like a bear and a a bit of drool fell of my lip, and to my surprise, my neighbor grimaced and said "Is this airplane food disgusting or what?"