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Don't Try the Pizza on Batik Air
By Mihar Dias June 2026
Against all advice, I did.
The warning signs were there. Friends had spoken in hushed tones. My own previous experience should have served as a flashing red beacon. Yet somewhere between hunger, optimism and the dangerous belief that airline catering eventually improves, I ordered the pizza on Batik Air.
Credit: Mihar Dias
One bite.
That was all it took.
The crust did not merely resist my teeth; it mounted a defence. The base possessed the structural integrity of industrial cardboard. One suspects it could survive a monsoon, an earthquake or perhaps even another flight sector. Pizza is supposed to bend slightly, surrender gracefully and deliver comfort. This one fought back.
The topping was equally memorable, though not in ways the culinary world generally encourages. The chicken appeared to have been mashed into submission, while a dark substance, described optimistically as tomato paste, looked as though it had begun its journey during a previous administration. The entire surface carried the colour palette of an abandoned factory wall.
I managed approximately half an inch before conceding defeat.
The stewardess, to her credit, apologised profusely and with genuine concern. She kindly offered a replacement.
“How about fried meehoon?”
At 35,000 feet, hope is difficult to extinguish.
The meehoon arrived compressed into a shape that suggested considerable engineering effort. It had almost entirely abandoned its original identity as noodles and evolved into something resembling a soft brick. Dark fragments of onion clung to its surface like fossils trapped in sedimentary rock. The entire creation sat inside a hot foil container looking remarkably like a child's Play-Doh experiment left in the sun.
Texture is important in food. This dish had only one texture: surrender.
This was not my first encounter with disappointment at cruising altitude. Six months earlier, on a flight to Bali, I had experienced similar culinary sadness. Foolishly, I had convinced myself that perhaps things had improved. Perhaps the nasi lemak might resemble the comforting standards set by Pak Nasir's meals served on another carrier.
It did not.
There is a special category of disappointment reserved for airline food purchased with one's own money while one's stomach is actively negotiating with gastric acids. Hunger raises expectations. Payment raises them further. The result, when mediocrity arrives in a foil tray, is something beyond ordinary dissatisfaction.
It is betrayal.
Airlines often speak of customer experience, brand positioning and passenger satisfaction. Yet somewhere between the marketing department and the galley cart, reality occasionally takes a very different route. Food need not be gourmet at 35,000 feet. Passengers are realistic. But they do expect meals that resemble the dishes printed on the menu and textures that do not require either dental insurance or geological analysis.
I have now established a personal no-fly list of onboard cuisine. Pizza joins nasi lemak and meehoon in permanent exile. Desperation may one day return, but experience is a stern teacher.
The next time hunger strikes aboard Batik Air, I may simply order coffee.
At least coffee generally knows what it is supposed to be.
Some meals leave memories.
Others leave cautionary tales.
Mihar Dias (mihardias@gmail.com) is a content creator under the Newswav Creator programme, where you get to express yourself, be a citizen journalist, and at the same time monetize your content & reach millions of users on Newswav. Log in to creator.newswav.com and become a Newswav Creator now!
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