Top yourself up.

Mon, 7 March 2016, 9:43 pm: Some in-flight meals are really tasty. Others are really hearty. Some are sadly neither. Once in awhile you get lucky and it’s tasty AND hearty.

I love Virgin Atlantic— this flight included— but my high altitude supper on this ocean crossing was just okay. I thought of it less as a satisfying repast and more as that rather bland material that filled my tummy between mini-bottles of Dewar’s.

So, clockwise from the bottom left, in the following photo we’ve got: Sir Branson’s version of a side salad, which is merely a small bowl of lettuce with two slices of cucumber and two small pieces of tomato; a slice of chocolate marble cheesecake, by far the best-tasting element of this meal (and since dessert is NEVER my favorite part of a meal, you know now how “meh” the rest of this meal was); two Carr’s table water crackers, which were somehow stale inside their factory-sealed wrapper (I’d have gotten certainly more crunch and possibly more satisfaction gnawing on my seatback tray); a portion of flavorless cheese; wee packs of butter and vinegar & olive oil salad dressing; two glasses of scotch & water; a hunk of bread more dry than Leonard Cohen’s humor; and, as the entree, cottage beef. Cottage beef as defined by Virgin Atlantic is mostly unsalted mashed potatoes, with several carrot slices, a sprinkling of peas, and a few stubs of roast beef buried beneath.

20160307_214311In terms of quantity I had no complaints. Regarding quality, I was grateful I had top shelf alcohol to supplement the middle shelf food.

Bringing us back to the Dewar’s.

You’ve paid for your flight. You’ve doubtless paid substantially. Why wouldn’t you want the absolute biggest bang for your bucks? All your food and drink is included in your ticket price. You do not have to pay for anything you order. When the drink cart comes around, don’t ask for tea or soda. Go for the priciest items: the wines, beers, and liquors.

When it comes to wine, I’ve never seen anything but Winn Dixie/Costco level brands in stock. Of the booze categories, wine is the least likely to net you any pride-inducing return on your financial investment in this flight.  If you see me ask for wine on a plane, it’s only because it seems to help me fall asleep faster than other alcoholic drinks and I’m counting on some shut-eye.

For liquor or beer, select whichever brand costs the most. Canadian Club versus Knob Creek? No brainer. If there’s Bud Light and Stella Artois, I’ll put the jet into a nosedive my damn self if you order a Bud.

My default whiskey request is Johnnie Walker Black. It’s the top-most top shelf whiskey an airline is likely to stock. Often they have Red if they don’t have Black. If they have neither, they almost always have Dewar’s. All of those cost a bit more than the priciest whiskey I tend to keep on hand at home, so I feel I’m getting more value from my flight by drinking them instead of drinking something less expensive. Tonight was a Dewar’s flight.

If you don’t like the taste of alcohol, or if you’re a recovering alcoholic, I respect you and I understand why you’d make the wuss move of asking for orange juice or just plain water.

Hang on. Edit. If you’re a recovering alcoholic, I respect you. If you just don’t like the taste of alcohol, I am shaking my head and wondering how we’re ever going to be friends. God knows you’re going to be insufferable to sit next to on a long flight and I’m going to have to ask the crew to let me move to another seat, and I much prefer to limit my special requests to endless refills.

Yes, you can have more than one helping from the drink cart. Every time that shin-bruiser rolls past, I ask the attendant for another whiskey. And another water, too. It’s the only mixer I use, plus you need to stay hydrated on an overnight flight. Since alcohol dehydrates you, the water is needed just to help you break even.

I’ve never had an attendant mix the drink for me. Invariably I am handed a mini-bottle of booze. Often I am poured a small cup of water from a large bottle on the cart. In that case, I put about half my tiny bottle’s worth of whiskey into the cup of water. A refill of that water cup in a few minutes, and down the hatch with the other half of my whiskey.

Sometimes the stewardess gives me my own full-size bottle of water along with my mini-bottle of booze. When that happens, I usually stash the unopened water bottle in my seatback pocket (handy during those long stretches when nobody brings you anything) and wait for another stewardess to come walking by. That stewardess doesn’t know the first stewardess just gave me a water bottle, and she’s usually happy to fetch me a cup of water. Now I’ve got water for later and water for now.

This flight had two drink rounds that officially offered alcohol, and most passengers limited their alcohol requests to those occasions. Me? When a crew member comes by post-dinner offering coffee, tea, or hot chocolate, I politely suggest that whiskey aids digestion just as much. And I’m given another mini-bottle. When an attendant moves through handing out water and only water, I smile and take a water…. and ask if there might be another Dewar’s available as well.

Don’t be shy. You want more, you ask for more. I’ve never been told no. Often the particular attendant doesn’t happen to have booze with him, but he’ll be back soon with whatever you want. Maybe you’ll be told, “We just ran out of Dewar’s. Is Jameson okay?” Of course it’s okay. I’ll add it to my stash.

A magnificent thing about the mini-bottles of booze is their screw caps. I can tuck any unfinished bottles into my coat pocket. Remember, my darlings, you can’t bring drinks onto a plane (except the ones at inflated prices after you’ve cleared security), but nobody bats an eyelash if you bring drinks OFF a plane. You should see the mini-bars I’ve created in my hotel rooms.

A few years back, a plane home from London sat gridlocked on the runway for two hours. Those stewardesses were so eager to keep us from rioting, they said yes to almost everything. I was happily handed two or three mini-bottles of whiskey every time any one of ’em passed my seat. By the time we finally took off I was retaining more liquid than all the dams in The Netherlands.

 

 

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