T H I S+W E E K Bali low By Cintra Wilson Loveless in paradise D E P A R T M E N T S >The Surreal Gourmet By Bob Blumer A fruity, non-boozy, end-of-summer smoothie Mondo Weirdo By Amanda Jones Sleepless Goddess Readers' Tips and Tales Trips close to home--in fact, in 'em - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Your virtual travel agency - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - LA S T+W E E K Tuesday, Sept. 2, 1997 Burma or bust By Joshua Cohen A charmed traveler in China takes the hard road to a forbidden border A full list of all Wanderlust articles

M I L E - H I G H__M E A L ___ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - THERE'S NO NEED TO EAT AIRPLANE SLOP. FOR $25, YOU CAN EAT FIRST CLASS. THE SURREAL GOURMET AS you read this, I am en route to Bordeaux, France, to run the Medoc Marathon, a 26.2 mile race through world famous vineyards during which the runners are served local wines and delicacies such as oysters at each of 22 "water stations." "C'est impossible!" you might say. Mais oui, it's true. But we'll have to wait until race time to see exactly how much fine wine one can actually consume and still stagger across the finish line in respectable time. In the meantime, as I prepare to eat and run, I would like to share a few surreal secrets on the subject of dining well on the fly. The more I fly, the more I'm convinced that the true wonder of modern aviation is the transformation of tasteless particles into something known as airplane food. In fact, I often wonder how an omelet that sat overnight can be fluffier than one right out of my own frying pan. Or where a Salisbury steak gets its grill marks, when the only heat source it has ever encountered was a microwave oven. The real answer is that airplane food is created by scientists not chefs, and intended to alleviate boredom, not tingle the tastebuds. To dine in the manner to which you are accustomed on the ground requires an upgrade costing hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars -- which really just gets you tanked on so much cheap champagne you think your food tastes better. Or you can try the old-fashioned way of beating the system by ordering an obscure "Restricted Diet" (example: a lactose intolerant kosher meal). But when you want to make a difference you can taste, try my $25 upgrade. This self-styled upgrade lets you enjoy your favorite comfort foods, and leaves you with money to burn once you've arrived at your destination. Here's the drill. Before a long flight, pack a shoulder bag with the following: - - - - - - - - - - - - DINNER: A take-out dinner from your favorite restaurant, or purveyor of fine foods. Call in advance and pick it up en route to the airport. (Warning: Pizza most likely won't fit in the overhead bin or under your seat, so this probably isn't a good choice.) SNACKS: A favorite candy bar, fresh baked cookie, fresh fruit, trail mix, gummy bears ... MIXERS: A container of fresh-squeezed orange juice. Only a handful of the finest bars in town use freshly squeezed orange juice in their drinks. Even the passengers in first class will be drinking concentrated orange juice with their champagne or vodka. Order a vodka and ice or a champagne split and mix yourself a heavenly cocktail. For extra panache, bring along some vermouth and use air turbulence to make you a martini. BREAKFAST: A fresh tropical fruit smoothie (now available at most grocery stores). After the flight attendants have finished vogueing through their emergency evacuation procedures, ask one of them to keep it on ice until the morning. MISC.: Your favorite herbal or specialty tea bags (just ask for hot water), gum, mints ... After boarding, build yourself an airplane blanket cocoon and retreat into your own private world for the duration of the flight. Fear not, there's no need to conceal your bounty from the flight attendants -- a gourmet picnic is guaranteed to win you instant respect as a seasoned traveler, and distinguishes you from the indiscriminate masses who begin to salivate like Pavlov's dogs as soon as the carts of mystery food roll down the aisle. Of course there is a certain code of etiquette that should be followed. It's one thing for fellow passengers to painfully ignore the wafting aroma of Szechwan garlic prawns after forcing down their bland slop, but don't expect them to restrain themselves on empty stomachs. To avoid an ugly food fight at 30,000 feet, wait until your neighboring passengers have been served before unpacking your bounty. Some extra chocolates (also known as mile-high currency) will go a long way in helping to avoid mutiny in the skies. Oh, and if you wind up sitting next to me, I'll trade ya for a macadamia nut cookie. Next week: Wine, women and pain: The marathon results. Sept. 9, 1997 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Illustration by Bob Blumer (aka the Surreal Gourmet). Browse the Surreal Gourmet Archives The Surreal Gourmet's Web Site is located at http://surrealgourmet.com.

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