British Airways food the dining low point of the year
Peeling back the sweaty foil lid on my main course was like being transported back to the worst of 1970s in-flight catering.
Maybe we had been swept up into the Bermuda Triangle after all, there to meet Gary Rhodes and former X Factor winners.
But before I describe what I can’t describe as a meal – because it wasn’t a meal, it was slop – let me flag up what BA says about its economy-class dining service.
According to its website, BA’s cabin crew will be on hand to offer passengers drinks “as well as tasty meals three course meals [sic] perfectly suited to your flight time and designed by leading chefs.”
Here we have an airline that cannot be bothered to proofread the copy it churns out for economy passengers, even though they have kept BA afloat as premium-class travel has fallen away.
And what of the “leading chefs” responsible for conjuring up the “tasty meals?”
I’d like to know who they are, not least because I don’t want to go anywhere near their cooking in future. I’d also like to know why BA hasn’t put these same chefs in a plane and kicked them out somewhere over the Atlantic.
And so to the meal. (Look away now if you are squeamish.)
As this was a three-course meal, I assume the non-Caesar salad was the starter.
It comprised dead lettuce (the wrong sort, being neither romaine nor cos), grated cheesy-feet cheese (not Parmesan) and soggy non-croutons.
The dressing, which had 311 ingredients, comprised cheap soya bean oil rather than olive oil. The tub remained unopened.
The main was described as penne pasta with salmon and broccoli.
It was the worst dish I have seen, or attempted to taste, in years.
The insipid, grey pasta had the complexion of Herman Munster recovering from swine flu and was clotted with dry, saw-dust textured salmon.
The anaemic flesh had long since ceased to be bear any resemblance to something once capable of swimming. The broccoli was Jurassic era.
A bread roll had the moist freshness of the Gobi desert. If you threw the crumbs to a pigeon, it would poo on you in protest and with good reason.
The pudding was oblong and sweet, cakey, possibly banana and came with manky red fruits and a gruel-like, thin custard scented with the essence of Shake ’n’ Vac.
The only thing I ate was the midget Twix. I also drank the mini-bottle of red Bordeaux, if only to numb the pain from the food.
I literally couldn’t eat the appalling food and told one of the stewardesses as much when she came to collect my tray.
I asked her if she and her colleagues were expected to eat the same rubbish. She said they were. It’s a disgrace.
Later that night, a message was relayed to me. Mimi felt “bad” she had been unable to assist with my modest request.
So she should, but I bet she didn’t feel as bad as me.
For this is the food of the living dead. It should have no place in any organisation that purports to value its customers.
The fact that BA serves it to muppets like me suggests a total disregard for less well-heeled passengers that borders on contempt. I bet they don’t serve Nat Kap this crap.
Which leads me to two “firsts.”
British Airways has the dubious honour of being the first establishment of which I can say the toothpaste (which they provide) was the highlight of the meal. Lovely zest.
Secondly, BA is the first place I have awarded zero stars. I’ll eat most things so that takes some doing.
Have you had a bad experience of airline catering? Perhaps you know of some terrific airline food, or would like us to try it. Contact our critic: richard.mccomb@birminghampost.net
