Ninety-five years ago, I ate shrimp dusted with almonds. Then steak. Then dessert. It was 1996. I was fresh out of college and United Airlines had finally ceded me elite status. My first upgrade landed me in an old reclining leather chair on a Boeing 77 flying from LAX to DC. I read the Sunday Times. I drank cocktails. It felt permanent, I thought. A lifestyle unlocked.
By spring 2001, the party was over.
United was bleeding money on catering. The elite fly-by-wire crowd lost their minds over a “gourmet” cheeseburger served for lunch. Don’t confuse it with the sad, compressed patties of today. This burger had substance. But the trajectory was set. Downward.
Then came the US Airways merger.
Remember the American Airlines dinner on that short hop from DCA to MIA? Decent. Fine, even. That existed before September 2014 when American got swallowed whole by US Airways’ austerity. Things soured. So bad that AA had to toss a little more money at meals less than a year later to stop the bleeding. I quit eating in-flight entirely.
In 2018, United tried to kill meals completely on sub-4-hour domestic routes. They walked it back two weeks later. The backlash was instant. But the impulse? Logical, to them.
Airlines want to spend less.
They’re wrong about how to do it.
Fourteen years ago, American let you pre-order your first class meal. Just picking what they had anyway, right? No. Then came the special meals. Back then, those weren’t cardboard salads. The Muslim meal? High protein. Excellent execution. I ordered it religiously. Yes, the TSA might have flagged you, but the food was worth the inconvenience.
Airlines are starving for revenue. Checked bag fees are tapped out. Leisure travelers refuse to pay more for their carry-on. So why not fix the menu?
Charge extra.
Premium on-demand dining. You pre-order. You pay. The airline makes profit. You get food that doesn’t taste like heated cardboard.
Who pays? The people sitting in row two. The ones least price-sensitive. Why squeeze the coach traveler with another nickel for bags when the executive traveler might drop $45 for a hot, proper dinner on a three-hour flight?
I would. I would pay gladly.
My only fear is the death spiral. If I pay, does the included meal become edible trash? Possible. American has already served shelf-stable pasta to first class passengers. A dollar packet. In first class. How low can you go before it becomes an insult?
Low enough, apparently.
Delta has “Basic First.” No advance seats. No priority check-in. Just a plastic badge that says “first” with none of the benefits. Strip the perks. Keep the price. Sell the meal a la carte. But make it good. Make it worth the transaction.
The catering infrastructure is there.
Look at the airlines that leave the US. ANA’s ramen. Singapore’s lobster thermidor. Etihad’s salmon biryani. Even their dim sum. These caterers know how to cook. They have the logistics. Why are US domestic flights an exception?
Food on international flights is often delicious. It must be logistically possible to serve this in domestic markets.
It already exists in economy elsewhere. Austrian Airlines did paid pre-order meals in coach via DO & CO back in 2012. €15 for a real meal. Czech Airlines sells premium wine like Moët & Chandon Rosé in the back of the plane. airBaltic’s paid menu looks actually appetizing.
Think about the economics.
First class has fewer passengers. Easier to manage inventory. If a business traveler opts for the €45 lobster instead of the free sad salad, the airline wins twice. Revenue up. Cost of the default meal saved. It is not zero-sum. It is an upgrade.
Raising revenue by selling a better product is a business model. Charging for the right to sit in the front because the economy cabin smells like despair is just taxation.
One is sustainable. The other breeds resentment.
Would you pay? If the steak wasn’t rubbery, if the wine wasn’t boxed, would you hand over the extra cash for the meal in front of you? Or do we just have to keep chewing on the crumbs until the seat breaks?
