It’s a hard choice to make, flying back from Mumbai at 38,000 feet. I always love the flight home: the hard work is done, the deadline met, the deliverables delivered. All you have to do now is check what’s up with the in-flight entertainment, have a bite to eat, and try to get some sleep before bumping down at a chilly Heathrow the next morning. (No matter what season you land, Heathrow is always chilly if you’ve arrived from Mumbai.)
I wish I could tell you I was brave enough to try the Miserable. I have no idea what it was supposed to be. Mousse? Meringue? Malpua? Or perhaps it really was an instant gateway to despair, a short-cut to anguish, pain, and unhappiness. The sweet taste of the accompanying raspberry coulis might be the last moment you knew happiness on this earth (or a bit above it, in my case).
So, just in case, I chose the cheese.