At one point, even economy-class airline travel promised a cold sandwich. And even if they ususally were way too cold (not to mention, minus the mustard, tasteless), today’s menu translates to “order out.” Or in – if you’re in one of those nicer airports with celebrity chef airport ports; say Shake Shack, Marcus Samuelssons, or the now-ubiquitous Wolfgang Puck. This is my long segue to some photos of my very passable lunch at Orange County’s John Wayne Airport where I enjoyed a chi-chi tasting of three wines, charcuterie and a cheese plate. Poor big John Wayne would have been horrified. Ah, bon voyage, my friend, merci!