It’s not that I don’t think about it. It’s just that I’m only rarely successful at getting on a plane with food. This morning I managed to stuff a handful of granola into a plastic bag at 5am, but I should have stopped to think that maybe that baggie wasn’t going to hold me for the 9-hour trek to L.A.
Five hours in, the choices are purple potato chips, cookies, and cashews. There’s also a mixed bag of pretzels, chips, cheez curls and tortilla chips—a virtual party of every snack food I grew up with. Each gets its own nutritional breakdown on the back of the bag—that’s something like 126 ingredients all together, green bell pepper powder and lactic acid among them.
You know it’s a long flight when I’m counting ingredients; you know I’m hungry when I eat the whole bag.