Flights of fancy

Surely something can be done about air fare; Why not supply a simple plate of pink roast beef and horseradish, with, perhaps, a carefully dressed potato salad to go with it?

Of all mass-catering, the one that looks after air travel must be the most complex. It is ridiculed and cynically discussed by all. We know better, even though each and every one of us has a different opinion about what we want to eat up there.

About four years ago, along with some other culinary colleagues, I was kindly invited to be a consultant to British Airways Catering. And, at first, I was thrilled to be offered such a prestigious post. It was one where I felt I could make a contribution. But after a visit to the massive complex that makes up the headquarters of BA Catering, I decided it was just too big an operation for someone whose idea of mass catering is a set dinner for 20 people.

Cooking in a restaurant for carefully timed tables of two, four and six, within a reasonably rational kitchen is a carefully styled operation. And one that demands reasonable parameters. But the restaurant kitchen is a languid operation compared with the madness of in-flight catering.

What really worried me about the BA behemoth, was control. It is all very well to come up with great ideas for dainty delta dishes: something witty yet practical, tasty yet uncomplicated and attractive to behold. However, the reality of these good intentions, may, how shall one say, not turn out quite as one might have hoped. When an operation churns out hundreds of thousands of meals daily, in different locations all over the world, and with different chefs and different kitchens, the odd blip or different interpretation is to be expected.

One of my enduring arguments over airline catering is the question of whether we really need hot food? And, if we do, why are the dishes always so inappropriate? Fillet steak cooked to a board; fillets of sole that have been massacred by fierce re-heating; slices of pork fillet that curl up into little boats of nothing at all, and sauces that congeal and coat in the most vile manner. And that's not to mention the shrivelled beans, stinking broccoli, singed carrots, hard and tasteless potatoes and, worst of all, bullet peas.

Why are there not more stews and braises, savoury pies such as shepherd's, or creamy chicken and ham? And if it is to be fish, what could be better than a smoked haddock fish pie or a dish of kedgeree? Or a curry? Some of the better airline food I remember was eaten on Air India. Think about when you heat up your portions of chicken tikka marsala and saffron rice from the supermarket; don't they taste good? In fact, some of the better ones, such as Marks & Spencer's, are absolutely delicious. As for vegetables - why not lentils and dried beans (think of delicious sloppy dhal), or chickpeas, perhaps. Or, if it has to be a fresh vegetable, why not a cauliflower cheese or mashed swede; something that, at least, heats up successfully! And why not a mug of nourishing soup with your own personal bag of croutons?

But cold food would suit me down to the ground. And I think the most perfect would be a simple plate of pink roast beef and horseradish, with, perhaps, a carefully dressed potato salad to go with it. Or some gravadlax and the now ubiquitous, (though very good) pickled Swedish herrings and a cucumber salad. What could be finer than a platter of the finest prosciutto or excellent salami? Cold chicken and mayonnaise? Or prawn cocktail and avocado vinaigrette, for heaven's sake? All universally adored, and simple to prepare.

But there is hope. I recently enjoyed a caring and innovative service to Hong Kong by way of Virgin Atlantic. Even the food was relatively OK. And it was interesting to note that there was spotted dick and custard on the way out and treacle tart for the return journey. At first sight, at least, a welcome break from fruit mousses of dubious hues.

The spotted dick was slightly better than the tart, but both were pretty dreadful. I would be interested to know, incidentally, where the recipes originated? The puddings are a good idea, as both re-heat well, but perhaps find a better recipe.

I do understand the problems, the logistics, the diets, the fickle public, the sheer magnitude of the situation. I really do. But I sometimes wonder whether the punters are really considered. Perhaps we are resigned to believing it will always be like this. Maybe we are happy with it that way. I suppose we would have nothing to whinge about if it improved, would we?.