The following was written April 25th 2009, aboard flight 1663 to St. Louis, from school in Boston:
If you ever get the change to fly in or out of Boston Logan International Airport around lunch time on what could potential be a gorgeous spring, summer or fall day, do it. The runways and landing pads stretch out from the airport into the Boston Harbor and Sound making you feel as if you’re going to miss the landing pad completely, or that your taxiing out on water. The last few times I’d flown out of Logan it was either at night or disgusting out, until the last Saturday in April.
Having had a gorgeous last few days with temperatures in the 50s, 60s and 70s, this day looked spectacular. Too bad I was flying home from school for the summer. But St. Louis, my parents and cats were waiting - luckily, the whole country it seemed, was going to be in the upper 70s lower 80s all weekend. I wasn’t missing an early spring/summer day in New England.
With a perfectly scheduled departure time, getting into St. Louis around 1pm, I found myself aboard my plane in seat 6A – first class after having good luck at the self-service check in machine with 3 bags to check: $160 in checked bag fees (one was over weight) to sit in coach OR $190 for my bags and me to receive the fist class treatment. A call to my dad and he let me hit the upgrade button. I boarded in the first group as opposed to my usual group 4 or 5 has I had on previous flights. It was then, I discovered why everyone must fly in or out of Logan International airport early in the day at least once in their lives.
The runways and landing pads are surround by water on three sides – when landing, you feel as if you are going to miss them completely, which is never the case. But today, my first departure out of Boston at a reasonable hour with amazing weather, lead to a breathe taking take off. We pulled out of the gate and began to taxi towards the runway. Having a window seat and being a pro-flyer, I ignored the safety instructions as per usual and stared out of the window not really looking at anything – but then I realized what I was looking at. Blue skies like I’d seen in Australia. Blue water gently rippling from jets and the wind. Fresh green, spring grasses and flowers between the pavement and the water. Houses lining the shores on the other side of the sound. Then I remember I was on an airplane, not in a car. My airplane window framed my New England paradise that I was currently trading for St. Louis until the end of August. Landing at St. Louis Lambert International Airport is nothing special, but going in and out of Boston Logan International Airport is. If you get the chance, do it, and be sure to be paying attention out your window.
This wasn’t the first time I’d noticed the water, the grass or the houses on the other side. It was just the first time I’d seen them in classic New England weather. When I first flew into Boston a few Octobers ago to look at colleges, I turned to my dad, a Boeing Engineer of 30+ years, and jokingly asked where the runway was. I was almost convinced we were landing on water. Then I saw the houses and wondered why one would want a water front house that over looks the airport. I guess waterfront is waterfront. And I could see my dad buying one of those houses after retiring, which won’t be for 20 years I bet. His old office at Boeing use to over look the runways at Lambert, then he moved new a new building 10 miles away. I guess one of those houses would be great if your son, nephew or grandson was 4 and obsessed with airplanes. Either way, those houses and the runways are in prime location on a prefect weather day like today.
I called my dad from the runway before they told us to turn off our phones. I’d asked the classic, “who’s picking me up?” and what was on store for the rest of the weekend. My grandmother turns 85 on Sunday, so we’d either be eating with the old Jews at 5o’clock at the Pasta House or having dinner at our house at the same 5o’clock, so either way dinner on Sunday was looking oh so early, but in actuality, it was in line with the schedule I’d been eating while classes were in session. While I finished class by lunch, my friends had classes that went until 5:40 eastern time, so we’d meet at the dinning hall at 5:45 to eat and be there until close to 7 catching up on the day since lunch. Translate that into the central time zone that I was entering, and I was eating every day before my grandparents.
On the mention of dinner at our house, I began planning a mental menu, only putting it to writing here, in this entry, on the airplane. As soon asi’d taken my seat on the plane, I pulled out my Bon Appétit and began flipping through it, not for ideas but because it’s just what I do on planes. It was going to be nice on Sunday so grilling was on my mind. Salmon, corn on the cob and a salad. It was in my magazine that I figured out the salad. One of the contributing authors had written a full page of text about a salad they had in Berkeley, CA in college. It was dressed with a ‘green goddess’ dressing. I had been planning my summer for months, and knew I was going to spend my evenings in the kitchen mastering recipes and blogging about it. It was this dressing that was going to be my first endeavor.
(May 3, 2009 Edit: Here is where I was going to give you the recipe, how it turned out and that jazz, but my grandmother, on her 85th birthday, wanted Steak N' Shake and store bought chocolate cake. No joke.)
After planning my grandmothers 85th birthday, I moved onto mentally planning Mothers Day brunch. Broccoli and caramelized onion quiche, Challah french toast, strawberry and orange fruit salad, turkey sausage.
It was on this flight that my summer began, and I was getting double miles.
