“I have to be at the airport by 6 o’clock. It’s a weekday. What time should I grab a cab?” / “It’ll take at least an hour this time of day. Why don’t you take the subway to Queens?”
What. I knew about the bus to LaGuardia Airport from Harlem, but subway to Queens, and then either cheap taxi ride or city bus transfer to LGA? What?! And it’s so easy. Just follow the signs from the subway marked with a yellow airplane symbol, in a yellow circle, to the bus boarding zone. (If I can justify the time, which is essentially the same as a cab or bus at rush hour, I’m never going back.)
Because: Halfway up the stairs I could smell a taco truck’s grill sizzling — that heady combination of meat, peppers and cheese. Oh, yes. I want. Now. Checked my watch. There’s no way I wasn’t detouring toward the pair of food trucks parked right outside the station.
And the rest, as they say, is history. A pair of carnitas tacos, plus a hongos quesadilla (I meant to order the huitlacoche), $6.50. Some of the plumpest carnitas tacos I’ve ever had, plus a quesadilla, the flour tortilla grilled crispy-golden, stuffed with cheese and savory marinated mushrooms that lit up the rows around me on my flight to Minneapolis … I didn’t make friends this trip, and I didn’t really care. My food was that good.
So I missed the last few days of posts due to technical difficulties I had with my cell phone carrier (AT&T, thanks for nothing). But I’m not letting that keep me from blogging now: Over the next few days I’ll be posting a series of “BLD London Edition” entries, on everything from a salted beef sandwich from heaven on Brick Lane, to my new cider obsession, and even a decadent 10-course tasting menu at one of Ramsay’s best. 
I was so, so wrong. British Airways’ service is so good, so premium, that I ended up mildly embarrasing myself asking the frequent flier next to me: “Is this a typical BA flight or are we on some sort of special premium service route?” 
Food and beverage service began with drinks and some lovely little seasoned pretzels. I couldn’t find a list of drinks available (always have to scope for what’s different or unusual), so when the flight attendant got to my row, I asked her, “Is there a list of what’s available?”
Score two, a full-service bar, airborne! So I opted for a whiskey (Johnny Walker, Red Label) and a half-decent little sauvignon blanc, and settled in for the flight.
