DELTA ONE Athens–New York: Premium Experience or Pricey Disappointment?
The surprising truth about whether Delta's hyped business class is really worth it
So I got this form letter from some chap named Erik at Delta. Specifically, Erik Snell, the airline’s “Chief Customer Experience Officer.”
Wanted me to fill out some survey about my recent experience with Delta One, Delta’s business class for international flights. How it is it, anyway, in Delta One — the sub-brand that seems to get more ink for its airport lounges than its actual cabin?
First, American airlines are, well, American. You thought Delta One was gonna give Emirates a run for its money? Then oh, you forgot that Americans, bless us, tend to put commerce ahead of culture (see Greenland, current affairs).
Anyway, good thing Mr. Snell’s an officer, because these days air travel is feeling increasingly like combat.
That’s why I recently paid extra for a ticket on Delta One. I thought well, if I have to fly to New York f*ckin’ city in frigid January I may as well beat the lines. Have an actually decent meal on board. Take an actual lie-flat snooze. Gush to my bougie gal friends about Delta One’s exclusive Missoni amenity kit—the case being a better glow-up than the cop-out contents contained therein (see the little birdie go cheep, cheep!🐦)
Preface finished. Here’s the play by play of my Delta One experience, starting in Athens (yes, our flight was Athens to New York, but we can assume business class seating and service is comparable in either direction.)
So, I guess when you’re flying Delta from New York JFK to Athens or anywhere, you have access to the much ballyhooed Delta One Lounge. Well, I was starting out in Athens, where the only really good lounges are those that belong to Aegean. Delta One passengers can use the Swissport lounge, which was adequate in terms of the decor, food options limited but frankly not bad, and absolutely zero newspapers or periodicals. I guess the Swiss are too busy counting Russian money to read? Whatever.
Back in the terminal, the boarding process was pretty smooth, however, there should have been a clearer path for business passengers.
Now, bear in mind this flight was on New Year’s Day. So maybe you cut people some slack; you can’t expect service to be at 120 percent the day after the biggest night out of the year for many people, flight attendants included. That said, the service from everybody aboard was pretty good, even if it lacked the reflexive solicitousness that comes with the territory aboard, say, Emirates.
And there’s where the problems are. You’re paying for a premium product to enjoy it, not just get through it, right? That’s what tickets in coach are for, after all.
You’ve got a price/quality equation to work out here, because Delta’s not going to do that for you — not really. It’s going to be a little different for everyone, depending on your priorities. For example, for many people the extra $2,000 or even more it might typically cost for a seat in Delta One (it could be less, of course, if you manage to get a last-minute upgrade) is worth it simply for the chance to sleep in a lie-flat seat — although that is arguably less a priority when traveling from Europe to the States than the reverse.
Either way, ten-plus hours is a long flight, and on mine, even though I didn’t sleep all that much, being able to stretch out and take a few catnaps was really nice: but there’s a caveat.
The Delta One seat is neither the world’s biggest nor the most comfortable. As business class seats go, I would say that it’s just adequate. Now, the A330-900neo is a newer plane but it is not as wide as the A350, so could that account for the narrowness of the seat? I’m not an airplane engineer, but I’m guessing that’s so. That’s actually okay, but for two thousand bucks the seat should be better. This one? It’s simply too firm. You have to use the special mattress pad supplied for the lie-flat position as padding to make it more comfortable, and still it doesn’t match Emirates.
The noise-cancelling headphones provided for in-flight use are a nice touch. The Missoni amenity kit provided is a nice case, mine was blue; but the contents, a tiny hand cream and such by Grown Alchemist, seemed like an afterthought. You can find better stuff at CVS, frankly.
Now let’s get to what’s supposed to be the second-best part of business class after the seat: the food! I mean the cuisine, right? Chef-curated and all that?
When I got an email a few days before my flight asking me to pre-select my entree, I was a little underwhelmed. The choice was between braised beef shortrib, roasted chicken breast, or artichoke filled ravioli. Come on: Ravioli should never appear on a business class menu unless it’s an appetizer.
Before the first course came warm towel service, warm mixed nuts and choice of beverage. The choice of non-alcoholic beverages was dispiritingly bad. Coke, Diet Coke, Minute Maid apple juice or orange juice from concentrate? On a flight from Athens, not even a single Greek fruit juice or soda? Could we Americans actually be a bit culturally tone-deaf?
My spirits were lifted somewhat by the basket of warm artisanal bread with French salted butter — but why was I offered only small piece? In business class you shouldn’t have to ask; you should be offered, because folks, you’ve already paid for it.
Starters! Poached prawns, which I asked to be removed from my tray because prawns like shrimp are just undersea cockroaches. Thai coconut soup with chives, which was very good. Mixed greens salad with cucumber and sundried tomato, total flop. First of all, don’t try to cram a bunch of greens into a tiny bowl. In an air travel age where Turkish Airlines puts marble trays in business class, surely Delta can find a better way to serve a salad?
Secondly, not everyone loves sundried tomatoes. Third, nowhere near enough dressing. Let’s move on then to the entree.
Or as Delta puts it, this being the age of the Gulf of America and all, the main course. I opted for the chicken. It came with a beurre blanc sauce, lemon herb mashed potatoes, grilled asparagus and oven-roasted tomatoes (pictured above). This was actually excellent.
But again, when the entree was served, it would have been nice to be offered extra bread or a wine suggestion. Bird looked a little lonely on that tray.
For dessert I opted for the ice cream sundae. The menu description made it sound appealing: cherry compote, chocolate sauce, Biscoff cookie crumble, whipped cream.
Okay, chocolate sauce? Bitch, this is business class, not some off-grid McDonalds in Germany — I want hot fudge, please! The whipped cream was like a clump of prison-grade whipped cream/fluffy floor wax. Come on Delta: cheap, cheap! Of the scoops of vanilla ice cream there were two, but almost flavorless, almost like ice milk. Are you seriously telling me, Mr. Snell, that with all of America’s fantastic purveyors of premium ice cream, you could not find a single one to partner with for Delta One’s “curated” meal service?
Delta One offered another dessert choice, Sorrento Lemon Cake, and also lumps a “fruit and cheese plate” in with the dessert selections. Mistake!
Aboard British Airways’ business class and most other business classes, the fruit and cheese plate is separate from dessert, as it should be. And I don’t care if the two cheeses offered were the fancy sounding Montagnolo and Le Gruyere — two cheeses does not a cheese plate make. A proper cheese plate, even given the limitations of dining at 35,000 feet, should have three or four cheeses to nibble along with the requisite chutney or (in this case) dried fruit.
For the “Finishing Sips,” according to the menu there was a choice between Bourbon & Coffee, Coffee & Tea, and Port Wine. I was offered none of the above. Again, the day after New Year’s Eve, you have to cut people a little slack. But come on: after a big meal, it’s the business cabin flight attendants’ job to ask if you’d like a cup of coffee and not my duty to have to ask.
Mid-flight or thereabouts they offered a mini spanakopita; it was warm and okay but a little dry. There was “an assortment of sweet and savory delights available for the duration of the flight” in the galley, but in reality it was all savory and no sweet. British Airways and Virgin Atlantic both do a much better job here; in fact I think BA pioneered business class snacking with their “Raid the Larder” thing some years back. I will say that at a point there were warm chocolate chip cookies placed in the snack basket, and those were good.
About 90 minutes before landing, there was one more plated offering of either a tomato and basil pizza or caramelized onion and cheddar burger. I chose the latter. It was basically pretty good, and I liked how the toppings of sliced tomato and pickle halves were kept cold and separate. The brioche bun could have used a little help, but it’s true bread doesn’t stay soft for long at high altitude. The burger patty itself was a little tough but satisfactory.
What almost ruined the presentation, though, was the placement on the tray of a ridiculously unnecessary dessert square of some kind, as pictured above. This was the kind of gelatinous chunk common to coach class food trays and it looked like it had been plucked from one of them. Barely edible. And an inappropriate choice, anyway, to pair with a burger. How about a little fruit?
So, Delta One, luxury or letdown? When there are flashes of both, sadly things lean more toward the latter. I will back this up with further evidence. The menu promises as a “Sweet Send-Off”, as a “token of our appreciation, please enjoy a farewell chocolate.” And ladies and gentlemen, it looks like this:
A tiny chocolate square that, Valrhona or not, is exactly the kind that you’d expect to find placed on an economy class meal tray. I mean, this is so not classy at all that it almost had me gagging. On Emirates, for fook’s sake, for a sweet send-off they give you a whole box of chocolates. But this? Cheep, cheep! So cheap, in fact, that it would be better not to offer anything at all.
So what’s the bottom line — Delta One to (or from) Europe, it is worth it? Yes, but also no. Food good but not roundly remarkable, service mostly perfunctory, and hey, where are my Missoni pajamas? Come on. I’d like something a little more than a tiny brochure saying how wonderful the Delta Missoni partnership is. At these prices, a few more perks please. (What’s your salary again, Delta CEO Ed Bastian?)
You just won’t get them from Delta. But you do get a lie-flat seat and the comfort of knowing that at least you’re not flying American. I’d recommend Delta One only if you can get it for better value as a last-minute upgrade.
