Why We Pack Our Own Food On Every Hawaii Flight Now

On a circuitous route home to Hawaii from the South Pacific, we just flew United Polaris from Papeete to San Francisco and learned a lesson we already knew too well. Bring your own food. Always. We used to joke about it even ten years ago in Living Well At 30,000 Feet, but the humor is gone. Airline dining has regressed even as flight prices have soared.

This was supposed to be a very restful overnight flight. A late departure, quiet and quick express service, and a chance to catch six hours of lie-flat sleep before connecting home. Instead, we found ourselves trapped in what United called an express meal sequence that lasted three hours. That is not an exaggeration. Snacks appeared after an hour, flight attendants vanished, reappeared, and lingered. Drinks were forgotten entirely, bread was never offered, excuses made no sense, lights were never on, and by the time coffee arrived, dawn and arrival were far closer than any chance to sleep at all.

We were flying United’s Polaris cabin, which costs multiple times more than a standard economy seat. For that kind of ultra-premium, you would expect dinner to be efficient and restful, even if not gourmet. Instead, it dragged on long enough that even the crew became very frustrated. A few rows behind in premium economy, and further back in economy, passengers had eaten and were fast asleep. As for us, nothing. Jeff finally gave up, eating every snack he had on board, and tried to sleep with the tray still in place but completely empty.

What travelers are saying right now.

Across social media, frequent flyers are saying the same thing. Many, even in premium Hawaii cabins, now eat in a lounge, board, and go straight to sleep in business class. Others routinely bring on salads or sandwiches because they feel the menu choices and pacing on board are too hit-or-miss. A common theme is that the food and service were better years ago, and that service ratios and complex plating have not kept up with today’s flights.

Some travelers say they now skip the meal and take only snacks and dessert to protect sleep. Others report issues like icy salads, entrees that arrive lukewarm after long gaps, and a second service (if there is one) that is not worth waking up for. There are also contrarian voices who think the food is fine for an airline and suggest the lounge or a restaurant is the place to dine if quality matters at all.

What almost everyone agrees on is the goal for red-eye flights to or from Hawaii. Eat quickly or earlier, even better, dim the lights, and let people rest, no matter the class of service. We concur.

Those reactions echo our night from Papeete. The problem is not one dish or one crew. It is a system that tried to stage a restaurant performance during a seven-hour red-eye when most passengers want peace and dark. Sadly, it was a joke.

Hawaiian’s meals were rarely memorable, but at least they were fast.

We have also been candid about Hawaiian’s A330 First Class catering. The food rarely impressed for years, but at least it arrived promptly. On our most recent flights, the food felt cafeteria-grade and the whole meal was entirely forgettable, yet the cabin service was quick and rest was possible. There is value in that. When a flight lasts five or even seven hours, no one wants to spend half of it waiting for blah food.

We wrote in Are Hawaiian’s New Meals A Future Differentiator For Alaska Wide Bodies that the coming widebody changes will only matter if food and pacing improve together. The bar is low, and that is both the problem and the opportunity with all airlines’ Hawaii flights.

We have been here before.

Back in Skip The Mystery Meat And Eat Gourmet on Hawaii Flights, we laid out simple strategies for avoiding altitude food regret. That piece grew out of years of packing our own meals on nearly every long Hawaii flight. It was true then, and it is truer now. If you care about sleep and sanity, control the timing yourself.

What premium really means now.

Premium used to mean calm. On this flight, it meant sitting under bright lights while an entree cooled in a galley during brief turbulence. Airlines still promote business class (or call it first class) multi-course service as a sign of quality, yet the very thing meant to elevate the experience often ruins it. The choreography is off. Too many touches, not enough hands, and no respect for the shortest overnights in the flight network.

There is an unspoken truth among frequent Hawaii travelers. The higher the fare, the higher the risk of disappointment if the service flow goes wrong. We have paid less for hotel rooms than any single ticket, yet the business-class meal felt like a throwback to economy in the 1990s. Crews are working hard inside a system that asks them to do too much, too late, on flights where sleep should be the headline.

What we actually pack, and why it works.

After decades of Hawaii travel, we are still packing our own meals for virtually every trans-Pacific flight. The flight from Papeete to San Francisco was an anomaly. Doing so is the only reliable way to eat well and stay calm. A simple salad with protein from a deli in town or sometimes at an airport (not Papeete). Sushi from a Hawaii market that prepares it fresh late in the day. A cold noodle bowl with a sealed dressing. A baguette sandwich with greens. Fruit that is not messy. Plenty of extra water. Nothing with a pungent smell. Everything can be sealed in a gallon bag until after takeoff. It is not about gourmet. It is about comfort, control and timing.

In Living Well At 30,000 Feet we argued that smart travelers treat airline food like background noise. You cannot fix it, so plan around it. That advice still holds. A homemade sandwich beat a lukewarm airline entree at 35,000 feet every time. — Beat of Hawaii.

A quick word on etiquette.

Bringing food on board does not mean turning the cabin into a mall food court. Choose items that are neutral in aroma, easy to handle, not messy, and quiet to eat. Keep packaging tidy and trash compact. Be discreet. The goal is to make your flight better without making anyone else’s worse.

The bigger Hawaii takeaway.

This is not just about food. It is about the slow erosion of what once made flying feel special. Hawaii flights once felt festive, with trays of pineapple and smiles that set the mood for arrival. Now the experience is simply transactional. The spirit can disappear somewhere between the beverage and the meal when the lights never dim.

For airlines competing on these hauls, the meal is not the point. The pacing is. Serve quickly, dim the lights, and let people rest. That is real hospitality. It does not require a celebrity chef. It requires respect for the night.

Where do we go from here?

We will keep catering our own as much as possible, or from quality sources, and we will keep “testing” airline meals with somewhat of an open mind. If a carrier gets the meal formula right for Hawaii, we will be the first to notice and report. Until then, our plan is simple. Eat what we bring, say thank you, and get some rest.

Do you still eat airline meals on Hawaii flights, or are you bringing your own too?

Photo Credits: Beat of Hawaii. An example of our carry-on food for long flights.