Adventures in Sustainable Eating
My first time on an 8-seater propeller plane was this past summer during our trip to Martha’s vineyard. It’s one of those planes where, at the airport as part of the boarding process, the attendant asks you how much you weigh in order to assess which part of the flying, mini death trap you will inhabit for the 45 most terrifying minutes of your life. Since I am prone to vomiting at the slightest hint of motion and have a thing about not going on planes where death is a real option, this wasn’t my idea of a good time. Also, due to my weight class (extra small) I was seated in the way back. But we were heading to “the vineyard” to attend a friend’s wedding (where Daniel would be cooking and I, filming), so I thought — even if this tiny plane runs out of gas in the middle of the ocean, bursts into flames and we all plunge to our deaths before being swallowed by a fish or hit by a submarine — hey, at least we tried to get there.
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