Travel broadens the mind, the old adage claims, which is as true today as it was yesterday. But today this broadening is mostly confined to the traveling mind's definition of food, especially when forced to seek sustenance in the nation's airports and railway stations, not to mention the unappetizing melange of manmade fats and industrial strength carbohydrates on offer aboard the planes and trains that depart from such nutritional wastelands.
The term "restaurant car" on a modern American train, for example, must be one of the greatest misnomers of all time. There is no description more inaccurate, no appellation more inappropriate, than "restaurant" car. Chalk and cheese appear quite similar by comparison. At an actual restaurant, diners are served a meal that looks and tastes somewhat like real food, even if it isn't. Riders braving the restaurant car of an American train, on the other hand, will be confronted with an unrecognizable squishy substance encased in an equally unidentifiable solid substance that is loosely wrapped in grimy cellophane.
Real restaurants usually provide tables and chairs, also, whereas the restaurant car of a train requires its patrons to evacuate the tiny compartment as soon as their transaction is complete and their order is presented to them. The trick then becomes getting back to their carriage before the squishy stuff encased in solid stuff they've purchased gets cold. This is no mean feat as the barely edible thing in their hands has been reheated at the weakest setting possible, achieving a temperature roughly equivalent to that of a steaming turd.
But at least passengers can get off a train if necessary. If you're flying on a plane and dying of hunger, however, you're stuck. Although domestic plane flights do boast a slightly more appetizing selection of morsels than trains, their menus still only approximate the starvation level bill of fare available in a medieval city under siege for six years. I'm constantly surprised passengers on a plane don't resort to cannibalism even if they haven't crash-landed in a barren and inaccessible mountain range.
Yes, travel does still broaden the mind. But it does not broaden the mind's appreciation of prepackaged sandwiches, microwavable pizzas, stale potato chips, lukewarm meat product pies, or chocolate flavored hunks of cornstarch. Ultimately, travel will not broaden your waistline as you won't be eating anything during the journey if your mind is still sane enough to overrule your stomach's demands.
