FlyerTalk Forums - Delta Vegetarian Discomfort Plus and the JFK Fancy People Lounge

My experience flying Delta TATL and eating their vegetarian meal.

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Sometimes, your professional life heeds the call of Jupiter and Bacchus, and takes you to Rome.

Sometimes, the gods just smile down on you.

This was not one of those times.

My job unexpectedly took me to Rome recently. While I had several frequent flyer accounts I had recently drained or earmarked for upcoming sojourns, my Delta Skypesos were doing nothing more than hanging out idly, waiting in rapt anticipation for the next devaluation.

I had assumed I would be able to cash them in for a pimp class trip to a pimping city, but alas. For a “mere” 90,000 miles, a round trip trans-Atlantic flight in coach was all mine. I’d like to contact the International Committee of the Red Cross and Council of Europe over the injustice, but in the meantime, I’ll just tell you about my trip.

As a silver lining, I had the foresight to snag a couple of Delta lounge passes for $20 on eBay, and as sloppy seconds, I took the bait of a chance at “upgrading” to Economy Plus.

I got to JFK, filled with a combination of dread and excitement for what awaited beyond the gleaming sliding doors separating the chosen ones from the plebes.

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A temporary respite.

Since everyone knows the best way to kill boredom is to stuff your face until you can stuff no more, I got right to work ordering a salad and “adult” macaroni and cheese at the bar.

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Last I checked, goat cheese is automatically classy.

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Totally not from the children's menu.

In preparation for my 10 hours of Economy Plus Purgatory, I decided that at the very least, I could be clean. I requested a shower room and the attendant immediately granted my wish.

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Remember, "marsala" is this season's color, according to the fancy people at Vogue.

I took an unnecessarily long shower, primarily because I had nothing better to do. The water could have been warmer but I assume they want to avoid lawsuits over scalded skin.

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Tip: Leggings are like socially acceptable sweatpants

After raiding the free snack bar for yet another superfluous meal, it was time to board the plane. One of the “perks” of Economy Plus on Delta is you get to board with the other 450 people in “Sky” zone. Roll out the red carpet, boys. I’m boarding!

I noted that my special coach seats did have a better recline and more leg room. It seemed to be sufficient and an improvement over the usual fare, though I acknowledge that I may be inherently oblivious to my rather significant Small Person Privilege.

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Probably not enough for a basketball player.

In flight entertainment left a lot to be desired. There wasn’t much I felt like seeing, Delta had nothing on United or Turkish economy. In fact, only SAS economy has a worse TATL entertainment selection than Delta.

I was annoyed, but in anticipation of this, had downloaded a few movies to my computer, and I had planned on sleeping on the overnight flight, anyway.

The kicker though, was the food.

I have been a vegetarian for years. Generally, when flying I select the “Hindu” meal, because I happen to love Indian food. Lately though, I’ve been traveling a lot, and the Hindu meal was starting to get repetitive. This time, I had gone out on a limb and selected simply “lacto-ovo vegetarian”. I was not expecting a gourmet production. I knew that my food was probably not going to be much to write home about. What I was not expecting, however, was to be presented with a steaming platter of Nutraloaf.

What is Nutraloaf?

It’s what they give prisoners in jail when they behave badly.

It’s meant to be a punishment, and carries the minimum amount of nutrition while packing the greatest punch of offensiveness imaginable.

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Do I get solitary, too?

And Delta deigned serve it to me on a flight.

Side dishes included mushy carrot medallions, the slimiest, gag-inducing canned spinach seen since the 1950’s (I’m going to go so far as to suggest it was potentially even salvaged from a 1950’s bomb shelter), an uninspired iceberg lettuce salad reminiscent of your elementary school hot lunch, and an insipid melon-dominant fruit salad.

Please, Delta. Are you in bed with the meat industry or something? Trying to punish me for my life choices?

The next morning, as they rolled out breakfast, I assumed I would be getting the same egg and cheese concoction everyone else was getting. After all, it was a lacto-ovo vegetarian meal and looked perfectly acceptable as an airplane breakfast.

But no.

Oh, no.

Adding insult to injury, the flight attendant slapped down a banana and prepackaged granola bar. I was beginning to feel judged. Like a hippie at the Republican National Convention. Like Bashar al-Assad at the United Nations Security Council. Like Angela Merkel in Silvio Berlusconi’s parliament, if you will.

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Even my Midwestern parents can do better than this!

We could not enter Italian airspace fast enough.

If there’s any antidote to being fed Nutraloaf in a flying tin can, it’s certainly Italy as a whole. I promptly scurried through passport control, hopped on a train to Termini station, and hightailed it for the first restaurant I found.

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Slight improvement over my last meal.

It was almost enough to forget the culinary trauma of the previous 9 hours. Almost…