Though I am still quite odd. There seem to be plenty of takers for the airlines paid offerings, probably because of price: $6 oatmeal seems cheap when you compare it to the $10 version in the terminal (though Pizza Hut seems to be doing brisk business). On my flight, there were no takers for the oatmeal at 10:00 am, though bagels were a popular item. I had breakfasted at home, and waited until closer to the end of the trip to pull out my bag of lettuce and huge avocado that was destined to be my lunch. My seat partner stopped snickering when he smelled that delightful little tangerine, a perfect cap to a refreshing meal on a stuffy airplane. I saved the carrot chips and nuts for the second leg snack, and arrived feeling well and not overly thirsty from heavily salted fare that is typical of prepackaged snacks.
But it could have turned out very differently. Indeed, in the days leading up to the trip, I was racing around, trying to get things done. One evening before dinner, I ducked out to go to the store for a liter of rice milk I needed for dinner, and a bag of lettuce for the trip: While I much prefer real lettuce, I had only a half hour, so rationalized that this would do. As luck would have it, the store of choice was festooned with hundreds of red and white balloons, effectively barring me from entering (maddening latex allergy). What to do? The Kroger market down the road has a decent organics section, even though it's not my first choice. So off I went. I plucked a brick of milk from the shelf, and headed over to the produce section, to the wall o' bags. And there I stood, paralyzed. I knew only that I wanted something fresh and crisp, organic and darkish green (no iceberg, please!). And the more I looked, the less I liked what I saw. When the morbidly obese clerk passed by and asked if I was finding everything I wanted, I realized I hadn't and put back the bag. The bag was Romaine lettuce, the subject of yet another E. coli recall--the very next day.
I am more thankful than usual for my personal farmer, who placed a head of tender local red leaf lettuce--the first of the season!--in my box this week, the eve of my departure. And while I do not feel vindicated, I certainly am more motivated to follow my instincts. So the next time you stand in front of the display (it is so much more than just a shelf) in indecision, ask yourself if you found what you are looking for. You may be surprised at your answer.
