The Doomed Experiment of Airline Food

Newswise — Airlines created the "doomed experiment" of serving food to attract customers. Now they are unable to get out from under the practice which costs the industry $40 billion worldwide. The problem is that no matter how much passengers grumble, they still look forward to eating on the plane.

So says an historian of aviation and technology at Albright College in Reading, PA.

"The need to pass time and experience something in common while in the air means that, for all their misgivings about what will appear in their tray, passengers actually look forward to the dining event," says Guillaume de Syon, professor of history. He has written a chapter on the history of airline food to be included in an anthology edited by Lawrence C. Rubin and slated for publication in June 2008 titled Food For Thought: Essays on Eating and Culture, by McFarland Press.

"Although airline advertising has suggested for 70 years that eating would contribute to the uniqueness of flying, the structure of airliners makes it almost impossible to succeed," he says.

The barriers to a good dining experience at 35,000 feet are well-known. They include the fact that flying in a cabin pressurized to 8,000 feet limits the ability to taste. Nostrils are dry. Dehydration also prevents taste buds from working as effectively they would on the ground. Airlines have tried to remedy this, de Syon says. Humidifiers were installed on some new 747s in the 1970s. But they were too heavy.

The air conditioning on planes "often condemns the best-prepared meals to cool in seconds," de Syon notes. And the experience of eating—a social activity on the ground—is lonely in the air.

"Most passengers have to face forward, and stare at their meals and other seats, rather than at their travel partners."

These inconveniences drive some to solace in alcohol or the in-flight movie. That's just fine with the airlines which wish more of them would do that instead of eat.

For many fliers, however, food is a welcome signal of normality in an experience they find abnormal—sitting in a winged metal tube hurtling through the sky at high speed. And then there are those seven decades of advertising to contend with.

"Offering food became a central concern of airlines eager to draw passengers away from boats and trains," says de Syon. "British, French and German sources each claim their nations' respective airlines introduced the first full-fledged meals."

Right from the start, however, meals on planes presented problems. Although early passenger planes flew low and slow so pressurization was not an issue, bumpiness was. Nonetheless, the early airlines put on the ritz, or tried to.

"Air Union, an Air France ancestor, turned to railway caterer Compagnie International de Wagons-Lits to produce a three-course cold meal which stewards were to serve in exactly the same fashion as on board a first-class railcar. This assumed, of course, that none of the passengers fell sick or that the steward didn't fall on the floor due to turbulence."

After enough incidents where wind shear sent forks, knives and bottles flying around the cabin, many airlines downgraded their food service in favor of a heavily supplied bar. Some introduced female flight attendants who were expected to act as nurses administering aspirin and "cordials" to worried passengers, de Syon says.

When the workhorse DC-3 airplane filled the skies with passengers after World War II, some airlines opted to feed their customers on the ground at transit stops.

"On the ground, they could eat and especially drink at will, and flight attendants often knew enough to jack up the heat after take-off to ensure that most of them would doze off."

When food was served on the DC-3, de Syon says, passengers balanced the tray on their airline pillow. There were no tray tables to place in the upright and locked position.

With the advent of high-flying jets, airlines tried again to improve dining services.

Air France was among the first to decide as a matter of corporate policy that food would be an ideal way for passengers to pass the time, even on short hauls. They called their service "The Epicurean."

But as pressurization to 8,000 feet became standard on planes by the late 1950s, "no longer could a kitchen offer all the amenities of a cooked meal," says de Syon.

Eventually, a model emerged which de Syon says is still in use by many airlines around the world.

"In 1973, French airline UTA asked renowned chef Raymond Oliver to suggest sure-fire menu options. His solution: three hearty dishes that most fliers had experienced at home or in a low-brow restaurant: Coq au vin, veal in cream sauce and beef bourguignon. All three are heavy items to digest, which takes care of the need to feed passengers again on long flights. Most importantly, when re-heated, such dishes lost little of their flavor. Dryness does not affect meat doused in sauce. This triad came to form the foundation of many airlines' economy menus and the 'chicken or fish' variation is itself based on that approach."

Today, consolidation of catering groups, airline de-regulation and the advent of no-frill airlines has made airline food service a more Spartan experience.

Still, food is expected by the airline passenger "regardless of what it consists of. It remains a staple of the flight ritual," de Syon says.