Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Imagine this: You're about to set off with the secretary of state for Central Asia, a destination halfway around the world, on two back-to-back seven-hour flights in a packed 757 -- and the first meal served is a teeming bowl of pork and beans.
Of all the contentious issues on any trip by the secretary of state, food tops the list. Despite the heroic efforts of dedicated and good-natured military crews to craft miracles from abysmal menus, Air Force Two's food has become notorious.
Almost everyone has a story, comment or recommendation. "I don't think you understand the depth of hatred for wing-dings among the staff," said Jim Wilkinson, one of Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice's inner circle. "We're not sure what kind of wings they are. Some people hate the meatballs, but most hate the wing-dings. They violate the laws of war, the Geneva Convention and the international convention on torture. They're sooo bad."
In what is now known as the Great Wing-Ding Coup, Wilkinson led a revolt this month to forever banish the chicken wings from the State Department plane.
But there are other complaints about Air Force cooking. "The burrito, it almost took me down," said the secretary's special assistant, Josie Duckett, who got sick during a stop in Tajikistan.
"The flan put to rest my theory that at least you could count on a decent dessert," said Anne Gearan of the Associated Press.
"The meat, it's awful. It's much too cooked," said Sylvie Lanteaume of Agence France-Presse.
"I'm not a vegetarian, but I'd like at least one meal without meat," said Joel Brinkley of the New York Times as he cut laboriously through a brown slab of meat that has become known as maybe-beef.
It's not as if any of us are demanding gourmets. Some of us would likely flunk home ec.
"I'm British -- I'm used to eating inedible food," said Saul Hudson of Reuters, adding that he was "aghast" at the food during his first trip with the State Department entourage.
The Air Force counters that it's not easy to keep an entourage fed. "It's not uncommon to support 10 to 14 days of food in the belly of the aircraft," said Lt. Col. Matt Anderer, acting commander of the 1st Airlift Squadron at Andrews Air Force Base. "When working our meals, the health of our passengers is primary. . . . At 35,000 feet, we try to provide the best meal we can."
Air Force Two is considered a plum assignment in the military . "Air Force One is the pinnacle, and the pathway runs through Air Force Two," Anderer said. Crews are recruited from a range of jobs -- from medical staff and flight engineers to loadmasters of jumbo C5 cargo planes -- and taught by Air Force chefs to cook in the small galley in the back of aircraft, he added.
But for passengers on Air Force Two -- a label technically reserved for vice presidential flights but now used generally to describe the fleet that carries Cabinet secretaries as well -- the issues are not just menus and food quality.
For all the history and glamour of trips with the secretary of state, they are often meal-deprived, grouse senior State Department officials. Meals have increasingly become budget-conscious -- rather than body-smart -- in a time of huge federal deficits.
On Rice's tour of Central Asia in October, we began in Kyrgyzstan, flew to Afghanistan, made a stop in Pakistan to view the earthquake damage, and ended up in Kazakhstan's new capital in the Siberian steppes -- a swath of territory ranging from teeming hot to almost freezing. The plane arrived shortly before midnight -- and most still had to work. Long day, limited food.
And almost a mutiny. The meal served en route from Pakistan was a tuna finger sandwich with a small plastic cup of celery and carrots, a meal added only after a protest by a member of Rice's staff who saw the original plan -- for nothing.
State Department trips are always grueling. In November, a Rice trip went around the world -- Europe, the Middle East and the Far East -- in a week. Three or four hours sleep can be a good night. Rice's staff and the press corps were in the same clothes for three days. America's chief diplomat decided to continue negotiating in Jerusalem all night and not leave for another day -- after the baggage had been loaded on her plane. When she finally left, she flew two more long flights to Korea and arrived in time for meetings on the third day. Or was it the fourth, given ever-changing time zones?
Bottom line: Nourishment counts. It's about the only thing that keeps us going. The Air Force counters that the State Department selects meals based on Air Force menus -- and the quantity of food.
Sometimes there's little sensitivity to allergies, religious restrictions or vegetarians. A trip this March became famous as the "all-pork tour of Asia" -- with a Muslim and an observant Jew on board. On one leg, all three meals had pork products, with two variations for breakfast.
It's not that the staff doesn't try -- or that decent meals aren't possible. Air Force crews are sometimes quite imaginative.
On Rice's first trip to Iraq this spring, she took a small jet with a tiny galley. The crew pulled out a George Foreman grill stowed in a closet to cook meals of salmon and beef. "It was the best food I've had on any plane," said the AP's Gearan, a veteran of both White House and State Department trips.
As a vegetarian, I've learned to bring a lot of my own food. But that can backfire. On one trip with Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, I brought a container of low-fat cottage cheese. I always hand my bag of food to one of the stewards when I board; usually they remember what's mine. But on this tour, Albright wanted lighter fare -- and one of the crew found my unmarked cottage cheese in the fridge.
Now I keep a jar of peanut butter in my computer case.
-- Robin Wright
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