UnAmerican Airlines

Un-American airlines

#AmericanAirlines

American Airlines has been my default airline for years.  I have flown over 700,000 miles with them.  I have circumnavigated the globe with them.   I fly them frankly because I have no other choice.  Their customer service is abysmal. 

I wanted to share this with folks who maybe don’t fly much with AA, so that you understand that, even for us frequent fliers, the experience is pretty poor.   I actually wrote this entry below right when AA filed for bankruptcy, but I decided not to post it because it’s not very nice to kick someone when they are down.  Well I can say now, as of December 2013, that despite the New AA Marketing Facelift, nothing has changed.   The experience below (plus some recent ones that I will be posting about) is still the status quo:

You are in a 747 Boeing which is about the size of a very a large suburban home in Minneapolis. But it’s pretty small when carrying about 500 hundred passengers.   As a result, AA has to get creative in how they dole out services to different ticket classes.

American Airlines wants to generate profit (and why shouldn’t they?), so the best way to do this is to create as many classes as possible, but without providing many more services in return.  Because you are in a flying metal suburban home flying across the Atlantic Ocean, AA is limited in the types of services/goods that they can provide you with.   This has generated a couple of bizarre American Airlines policies.  A few examples:

Example 1: The Difference between First Class & Business Class

For example, in Business Class and above, we are fed a 4 course meal which is kind of ironic because it was all prepared 3 hours ago before the plane even left the terminal.  It’s not really fresh, just warmed slightly.

However, the best part of the meal is the ice cream.    Depending on the route you are flying, there is only Business Class.  For longer flights, they have both Business Class and First Class.   In both classes, they service ice cream.   However in order to generate a hierarchy, they have to come up with a way to add extra flourishes to the ice cream in First Class.  How do they do it?  They serve you peanuts.  Yup, you get a custom made ice cream sundae where you can ask for peanuts and hot-fudge.  

I was perfunctorily informed by my flight attendant (she wasn’t rude, just doing her job) that I was not entitled to peanuts & hot-fudge on my ice cream –unless I was in First Class.  So I started to do the math on what more I would have to pay for this additional service.  Sure, there are other amenities in First Class that I may have access to.  The big amenities are the leg room and bed situation but that is already perfectly acceptable in Business Class. 

However, the part that I VALUED was the custom made ice-cream sundae.   The full-fare Business class ticket for a European flight to say JFK is about $5,000.  The First Class fare is about  double that, so $10,000.  I already get the Sundae in my $5,000 ticket which sometimes comes with hot-fudge pre-congealed in the bowl.  That means I’m paying an extra $5,000 for nuts (plus a person putting the nuts on the sundae).

Example 2: The Difference between Business Class & Economy Class 

This is when it gets interesting.  I do a lot of flying on the Asia Airlines (Cathy Pacific , Singapore Airlines, and Korean Air).   These airlines are the best in the business.   They cost no more than American Airlines. They are the example of what happens when service is the biggest priority.  I think that I had been spoiled because though I was flying Economy, the flight attendants provided me with not one, but three pillows for the flight.  

Now, let’s compare this to the same extra pillow request that I made to an AA flight attendant on the flight from Delhi (or was it Bangalore?) to Chicago last year.   I should probably mention that at this point, I had been an Executive Platinum member with American Airlines for at least 3 years.  So you would think, that MAYBE, I’m a valued customer?

I asked for an extra pillow.  The stewardess attending to the Economy Class informed me that each passenger in Economy Class was only entitled to one (1) pillow.   Did she notice that I was pregnant?   The disappointing part was that while she was following the airline policy, she did not notice that there was a pillow that had been crammed between the seats behind her that was unclaimed.    My fellow passenger noticed this and gave me his pillow as a courtesy.  J    

Rising from Wheat Farmers

I rose from a family of wheat farmers, so it is only fitting that I should under-take this 50 Bread Baking Challenge.  There are so many wonderful pictures of my grandparents harvesting the grain from their golden-beautiful wheat fields.   No Gluten Free diet here.

Thus, it should be no surprise now with the amount of different types of flour in this house.  White, unbleached, whole-wheat, Semolina, Bread Flour, Cake Flour, Almond, and Sorghum (located on the top-shelf in a sealed container for my GF baking) flour all stashed in various cubby holes of the pantry. 

We are 9 down in this challenge:

1.       Grandma Ethel’s Cinnamon Rollls

2.       Walnut Bread

3.       French Bread

4.       Sour-dough Whole Wheat Ciabatta Bread  - (good enough to tempt Gluten-chaste friends)

5.       Corn Bread

6.       Chocolate Yeast Bread

7.       Almond Macaroons

8.       Pizza Dough – which went to a Spinach, Panchetta, Goat Cheese with Truffle Oil Pizza

9.       Oat Nut Bread

The Oat Nut Bread (made yesterday) was delicious – it more than made up for a previous week’s disaster with Almond Macaroons.  The Macaroons were another opportunity for French intimidation.  It was a funny adventure because it involved wine and my good friend Julie (both which make everything better).   

So instead of one GIGANTIC runny macaroon, we switched course and made little macaroons, all put into muffin tins.  Though without any butter in the muffins tins, we were scraping the macaroons out of the muffin tins with the George Forman grill spatula (I knew I would use that grill eventually).   

Next Up: Irish Soda Bread

The Process of Buying a Swim Suit in India

India accepts both the modest & modern dresser. For example, just look at the sari.  The sari itself is six yards of silk which while prominently displaying the belly & back, can also be used to cover the hair & head whenever a woman goes to the temple or performs a puja.  Or look at the long pajama tops now – they are butt-covering, but with very high slits up the sides of the thighs.     

This frame of reference for acceptable India dressing is a perfect backdrop for my bathing suit shopping experience this past weekend.   I made yet another random bathing suit purchase – this is because I can never seem to remember to pack a bathing suit on trips.  It could be interesting to count up the number of countries where I have bought bathing suits.  But that is another story. 

This started when I walked into Blush and asked if they carried Bathing Suits for sale.  First, confusion on their face.  Then, recognition.  They said, yes, we have Bathing Suits for sale.  The sales women takes me to their bra & underwear counter and pulls out what can only be described as a diving suit, head-to- toe covering in spandex (to some, it is affectionately referred to as a Burkini).   

“Do you have anything smaller,” I said. 

The sales lady said, “This is the smallest size we have?” 

“But maybe something with less material?”

“Oh!” More recognition on her face.  She produces another suit which is a full piece bathing suit, but with extra ruffles to cover the butt and shoulders.  It comes with a belt.  It has flowers on it. 

Pause. 

Pause.

[We are both lost in translation]

I said immodestly, “Do you sell bikinis?”

“Yes, we sell bikinis.”

The sales lady takes a dirty plastic shoe box hidden from underneath the counter and starts pulling out options.  Tiny options.  Mixed together.  Some have tags.   She wraps my purchase into a brown paper bag, which goes into yet another plastic bag.  Rs 400 later (USD 10), it’s off to the swimming pool. 

India - Downton Abbey

Where: Bangalore, India

When: Sunday, Feb 10, 2013

In modern day India, you even now get a really good feeling about what it was like to live during the British Colonial Era—at least for Western visitors like me.   This week I’m staying at the Leela Palace which is a 7 star hotel (yes, kind of like an 11 for a stereo) in the heart of Bangalore.  The hotel is an aging ornate Pink Stucco grandiosity with gardens, outdoor terraces, intricate marble floors, and many servants.  The hotel caters to two types of people:

a)      businessmen who have come to this Emerging country to accomplish big things

b)      US or European tourists who want to visit India without actually visiting India

You can see both groups of people here at the pool.  All are pale and trying to get a tan.  This includes me.  At home, we pour our own drinks, carry our own bags, or lay-out our own swimming pool towels.   All is done for you here. 

The first 24 hours in the country are always an adjustment for me because I stubbornly insist on doing everything on my own.  I have caused many kerfuffles in the breakfast room because the latte was taking too long, so I went over to get it myself—or when the jasmine rice on my plate was empty, so I went to refill it from the buffet table set up for my convenience.  And then there was yesterday when instead of taking the chauffeured BMW, I hailed an auto-rickshaw outside the hotel to go shopping on Indiranagar street. 

But the Indian culture has persisted for many generations, so I should know better than to fight it.   It is a service culture through and through.   And I realize that very starkly here – the waiter pouring my Kingfisher beer works with humility.  But he is also proud to be serving me drinks. He specializes in this type of service.   And he is completely unlike an American waitress who may despise me a bit for not having work on a Saturday night. 

 At first, I am uncomfortable with being fussed over.  Or annoyed with the extra time it takes.   But after the second beer, it becomes second nature – you can see how British Royalty could get used to this sort of thing. 

Vinya - My driver from Hyderabad

The Leela from my hotel terrace

Family Running Errands

2013 Resolutions

My interesting NY resolutions for 2013 are as follows:

1. To bake 50 different assortments of bread
2. To smile at strangers
3. Yellow Casa Expansion

This is an update on how #1 is going.

Bread baking challenge:

Thank god for the French.  Between their crouissants, tartins, and "pains de bastard, bullet, or champagne", I could finish 50 different recipes without even leaving France.  And the recipes, are so simple.  Flour, water, salt.  Add the transformative powers of yeast and you have yourself a reason to go buy pate at the store.

Here are a few pictures of the pain Francis (plain French bread) that I made recently.  This recipe taught me to have a sense of humor while baking.  Not all the bread that I bake will look like supermodels.  

What I intended to make....

It caused some trouble along the way....

But everything turned out in the end. :)