En route, Miami-Madrid, May 3, 2010—
DINNER IN THE airplane. There was a time this was pratically guaranteed to be terrible, but something has changed. The food has improved, or my threshhold has lowered, or, most likely, I've grown resigned. We're on Iberian Airlines, and while the lady at the desk in the airport apologized that the food would be American, not Spanish, it seemed somehow Spanish to me. And, by the way, included in the ticket price, including the wine.
Braised beef, garlic-scented mashed potatos, little green peas, cole slaw (Lindsey relieved me of my shrimp); yellow cake with almond glaze.
Tempranillo, Canforillos, 2007
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