To Eat or Not to Eat... There is no Question

This is my 7^th time flying back to France in the past three years, making it my 38^th international flight since graduating college, and all I want is a banana. I’ve grown so accustomed to taking planes (and trains and automobiles) that 9 hours squeezed in seat 37F feels like a snooze.  Traveling has taught me a lot about myself. All those hours roaming through airport terminals, or in 37F between cryers and farters and sometimes babies, and never remembering to charge my kindle… these are the moments that have shaped the woman I am today. Because thanks to all these worldly experiences, I believe I’ve finally learned, or should I say been enlightened, about one of life’s most valuable lessons: what NOT to eat while traveling.

May the odds be ever in your favor. 

I love bananas. They go great in pancakes but not in duffel bags. No matter how careful I am they end up smashed at the bottom of my carryon and then it’s all wet and mushy on the bottom and feels like I’m carrying a dirty diaper that’s got my laptop inside. And that’s gross.

So slice it up, put it on some bread with some pb and make it a sandwich. Don’t think I haven’t thought of that. Peanut butter leads to dry mouth, followed by thirsty mouth, resulting in urges and frequent bathroom trips which are a pain in the ass unless you’ve got the aisle seat but who wants the aisle when you can have a window seat and stare at the pretty clouds and tiny buildings. No peanut butter. Same goes for chips, nuts and pretzels. Avoid salty things that make you want to do wet things.  

On international flights I know that I’ll be stationary for the next 8-12 hours, so I prefer to avoid things like pizza where I’ll literally feel the fat soaking into my love handles. I also try to limit desserts like donuts, cake, cookies, brownies and muffins to one (of each) to not feel regretful. Those chewy granola bars are packed with high fructose corn syrups and the healthier ones leave crumbs all over the seat and on my lap and in my bra, which is just itchy and rude. I could just wait and try the airplane food, but that’s a high-risk decision I’m not willing to take.

Oranges get sticky. Salads are pretentious. Bagels make me gassy. Apples seem like the perfect medium, but then you’ve got that darn core to worry about and unless you flag down a flight attendant, that too ends up on your lap on in your bra and that’s no fun either.

So what’s the solution? Buy an overpriced meal at the airport? On my writer’s salary… Ha.

After countless trial and errors, it’s still a struggle I battle before each takeoff: how to pack the perfect snack to carry me through to the next time zone. Perhaps I’m thinking way too much into this, but I’m a writer so I’ve got nothing better to do anyway.

Today I’ve armed myself with what might be the winning meal: sliced bread with spreadable butter; a fruit/nut salad in a shaker (not at all pretentious); a cookie; probably a second cookie; pre-sliced apples (coated with orange juice so they don’t brown… thanks, mom); and an empty water bottle to refill once I’m past security. I may have also packed an entire loaf of pumpkin bread… only time will tell. One could call this type of travel lunch preparedness “extensive,” “over-involved,” even “stingy”… but I like to think of it as “art.” Because rather than joining in with the stinkers and the screamers in row 37, my belly-happy self can instead spend the next nine hours daydreaming of croissants, macarons, and other treats that await me once I land.