from C+T contributor Buzz Beurre
Taxes, death, and arguing about what, exactly, constitutes art . . . there really are very few sure things in life. The reality is that we’ve gotten to a point in society wherein those with the most money get to cast the deciding vote on what the defines ‘good’ art. People used to say ‘I could do that in grade school’ when looking at a Pollack; a guy with tres commas comes along and plunks down ten sticks for what appears to be a well-spaced and colored crime scene and suddenly old Jackson is one of the greatest of all-time. Remember when someone paid Damien Hirst $12 million for a fiberglass-stuffed shark in formaldehyde? I wonder what the good folks at Ole ‘n Lena’s Taxidermy and Funeral Parlor in Spooner, Wisconsin thought of that.
ANYWAY, I am neither a painter nor an individual interested in dead, yet inedible sea creatures. I am however, an artist. My medium? Drinking at the airport. I am not compensated as I toil; in fact, I pay (sometimes handsomely) to create my frescoes. You see, every type of flight and departure airport has its drinking nuances and peculiarities. ORD-MIA? Simple. LGA-BOS? That can be a tricky one. LAX-OGG? Capital F-U-N.
Today, we are here to discuss one of the most high-ceilinged but fraught-with-peril drinking situations out there: I am flying from New York’s JFK to Rome on an overnight flight, leaving at 8:00PM EST and landing just before noon.
My flight leaves from Terminal 4 at JFK (which, in my opinion, is one of the best individual airport terminals in the US – I’m winkin atcha MSP and DET) so it’s easy for things to get out of hand and to be so blasted that the whole boarding process feels like a field sobriety test, leaving one feeling like complete dogshit upon landing the next morning on little/no sleep, which isn’t good for anyone.
Luckily, I have enough experience with this sort of thing to have a plan that will leave me happily sauced for a calm, good night’s rest, and ready to live la dolce vita tomorrow morning in The Eternal City.
Step one: airport arrival. In order to make the most of my drinking time for an eastbound overnight, I like being through security two hours before my flight. This will leave me with sufficient time to space my intake and gauge how I’m doing as I go. T4 at JFK can be a bit of a zoo, so this means being in the security line about 2:25 before take-off.
Post security, this is my suggested plan for this flight:
Once you’re through security, head down the escalators and to your left. In the center of the beautiful shopping area you’ll find Le Grand Comptoir, which is NOT your standard airport wine bar. I admit that I’m not above pounding Yellowtail Sauvingon Blanc at the Chattanooga Muni Airport when that’s what’s available, but at JFK we’re going to avail ourselves of the good stuff. At Le Grand Comptoir, they have a device that allows them to pour some of the greatest producers in the world BY THE GLASS. Want something big? Joseph Phelps Insiginia, Opus One, and Heitz Cab are all available in a 5 oz pour. But to me, that’s all steak wine, and that’s not our goal here. We start our pre-flight beverage bacchanalia with a fantastic glass of Penner Ash Pinot Noir.
Next, something to eat (and drink). I have found that it’s important for these flights to move around as you imbibe, taking note of how you feel so as to arrive at the desired level of hammed. The next meal we have after takeoff will be at a trattoria looking out at some super old shit, so eating is a priority. Just down the hall from Le Grand Comptoir is the airport version of The Palm – an old standby for New Yorkers, and a place at which I hope to have my cartoon drawn someday (the spending requirement has to be different at the airport location, right?). A big Gigi salad and a vodka martini is the right move here – we’re only an hour or so out from boarding, so it’s time to get things rolling.
After a martini, it’s all about maintenance. The goal is to keep the feeling that one glass of wine + a martini provides until just before boarding. Our flight leaves from gate B29, which is only two down from the Delta Sky Club (for my money the best drinking destination at JFK), which is about a five or seven minute walk from The Palm. In between, there are plenty of bars to choose from . . . we went for a shot of Jack Daniels at the Buffalo Wild Wings . . . honestly because why is there a Buffalo Wild Wings at the airport? Who are these people who go to fly somewhere – at an almost exclusively long-hall, international terminal – and think: yes, wings and beer. Perfect. I’m going to flatulize the whole plane and GO TEAM.
Anyways, after that experience, we headed to the Sky Club. If you have a Platinum American Express card your entry is free, or you can purchase a single-day pass (tip: if neither of these is an option you wish to avail yourself of, get a seat at the bar at Pizza Vino near B28 – same execution). Once inside, all standard drinks are free, and they have premium choices for purchase. Since I was feeling both celebratory about the upcoming Italian vacation and strange about the JD/BWW situation, I decided to take the unusual route of some expensive champagne. Common sense would tell you not to drink carbonated beverages before a flight. Common sense is common because it is correct. Don’t do this. Have some rose or white wine that will keep any possible hangover to a minimum and keep you happily lit as you wander to your plane.
Now: triple check to make sure you’re headed to the right gate. Act totally natural and don’t speak to the gate agent. Just hand them your boarding pass, nod and smile, and you’re home free. Enjoy!
