Wrapped in foil, scalding hot and served at weird times of day… Inflight cuisine has been stuck in departures for 100 years Last week I spent eight hours on a plane, and learned it is exactly 100 years since the first inflight meal was served. All around me, my fellow passengers were attempting to conquer their seats, unravelling wires, tucking complimentary blankets around themselves at speed, like sausages gladly accepting their Christmas bacon. Crackling with static, they were taking their shoes off, each thigh movement releasing a new expression of gas, attempting to build a nest for themselves with polyester and breath. Here was a woman who had architected a pink pashmina tent, under which she appeared to be meditating on loss. Here was a man, rageful and wiry, whose bare feet melted into the aisle like pedicured ice cream. He had brought his own pillow, of course. Beside him a girl’s headphones were weighted with a unicorn horn, which bobbed in time to lazy pop. Continue reading...