I’ve written in these pages about combining my love of racing motorcycles with aviation, flying to distant racetracks and sometimes even landing on the track itself. Aviation sweetens the pot for any adventure. It’s a simple equation: Anything you like to do + Aviation = A Win.

Food pairs exceptionally well with aviation. In fact, one of the oldest cliches in aviation is the $100 hamburger (now pushing $300 in many modern airplanes) whereby you fly to a semi-distant location and have a burger before flying home. Sometimes the burger is just an excuse for the flight. There is something about a flight being mission-oriented that checks another box for me. I understand why pilots take part in humanitarian relief, angel flights, or dog rescue missions. I would fly just for the sake of flying, but having a reason makes me feel like an airline transport pilot.

Food is one of the last remaining things in this ultra-homogenized country that still has some regional specificity. Take a road trip this summer and stay on the interstates if you want to see hat I mean. It all looks the same. Chain after chain punctuated with superstores visible from the freeway. It’s numbing and offensive. Cracker Barrel does its best trying to masquerade as local fare, but it’s not authentic Southern cuisine by any measure. Waffle House is the only one I find irresistible, but I’m not starting up the big-bore Conti to go there either.

No, you have to exit those thruways and get on some two-lane blacktop, where you can still find the mom-and-pop restaurants that don’t have an HR department or a social media presence. This dovetails nicely with general aviation in that the bulk of our 5,000 some-odd airfields are well off the beaten path. Throw in a free crew car and a little bit of research, and you’ve got the makings of a nice lunch. Sometimes I skip the research, roll into a small town and just ask who makes the best fried chicken. If you were to only fly into commercial-service airports in the hope of finding a similar experience, you would miss a whole lot.

I am writing this column from the patio of La Mama in Santa Fe, New Mexico. It’s a new restaurant housed in what was previously a craftsman home right in the middle of town. Landed in Moriarty (0E0) this morning and dropped the Bo off with Fernie, who is addressing a few leftover squawks, post-annual. Jumped in his truck and drove straight here for a sublime bowl of soup and a sandwich on house-made focaccia. Double mission, double joy.

• READ MORE: Flying for Food: The Butcher Block Edition

I have flown to Catalina Island (KAVX) in California numerous times for what is a decent breakfast (nothing I’d spend time driving to) just to justify the gorgeous trip across the water and the carrier landing on top of a mountain. Camarillo (KCMA) is a close second, where the landing is not as exciting but walking up to the outdoor restaurant on the field a mere 50 feet from your parked airplane is an experience worth burning some 100LL.

I seem to make a cross-country trip in my Bo every few years, and I keep a digital folder of restaurants I want to visit. While a restaurant on the field is the gold standard, there is also something great about borrowing a mid-’90s vintage Crown Vic crew car with the driver’s side spotlight still intact from its previous life as an unmarked police car. I love how people still get out of your way in that thing.

Sometimes, the culinary destination outshines the flight. Rare, but it happens. My buddy Carlo and I flew up from Los Angeles to Los Gatos, California, a few years ago to experience one of the best-ever meals at Manresa. Sadly, the restaurant is now closed (a victim of COVID-19), but I will always remember that flight/meal.

I enjoy the cheap meals as much as I do the high-end cuisine. Aside from an appreciation of all foods, the people are much friendlier in the eateries that don’t come with Michelin stars. I tumbled into PJ’s Rainbow Cafe in Mountain View, Arkansas, a few years back on a cross-country flight. With an actual rainbow on the front glass, this place would absolutely be a gay hangout if it was located in the West Village in NYC. I walked in and immediately noticed the tiles of the dropped ceiling were individual advertisements for local businesses. I’d only seen this done on menus and the occasional tabletop until I entered this establishment. Dining next to me was a woman with an incomplete beard who told me to get the chicken-fried steak. She was with her husband (full beard), whom she met online and who “drove down to Florida to pick her up.” I overheard another woman discussing the eye makeup in the Netflix drama series The Queen’s Gambit and finally had a conversation with a elderly man in full military dress blues who owned a local health food store. He somehow confused me with someone else in the small town (population: 1,700) who apparently I looked like, and we struck up a conversation. He works in the honor guard and buries deceased servicemen and women. These are encounters and meals you simply aren’t going to have anywhere near JFK.

Gonna pick up the airplane in Moriarty tomorrow then head back east for the summer. I haven’t been home in more than a year because of my work. Staring at a VFR map of the country, I am planning my route back. People assume this is a regimented, regulation-fueled exercise. Nope. Taste buds and curiosity are the drivers here. BBQ in Kansas with Sean or a little sandwich shop on the South Side of Chicago with Chris? Not sure yet. Will get airborne and figure it out at 11.5K.

This column first appeared in the July 2023/Issue 939 print edition of FLYING.

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As author of  the yearly resource, “The $100 Hamburger: A Guide to Pilots’ Favorite Fly-In Restaurants,” he has three decades worth of experience, $100 at a time.

He also knows that making that trip every so often is a needed thing for pilots to do.

“The $100 hamburger [the pilot’s term for a meal traveled to by aircraft] isn’t about flying away for breakfast, though that is the way we think about it,” he said. “It is instead an opportunity to practice our skills by leaving the pattern and flying to an airport we’ve never been to before. 

“Do this twice a month, and when vacation time rolls around, you’ll have the skills and the experience to safely pile your family into your ship. Burger runs are the most important flights safe pilots make. They keep us current.”

The Choices are Endless 

The offerings in on-airport restaurants can include anything from barbecue to Mexican and everything in between. But Purner says one genre is more common than others.

“The good ole American casual diners seem to be the most prevalent.” 

The three best in Purner’s view?

• Jake’s Joint, Ardmore, Oklahoma (KADM)
• Pilot Pete’s, Schaumburg, Illinois (06C)
• The Downwind Café, Spruce Creek, Florida (7FL6)

Purner says that roughly five percent of airports have fly-in restaurants. There’s an ongoing competition over which state tallies the most operational ones. 

“It is a constant contest between Texas and California. Most months it’s California,” Conversely, “the mountain states have smaller populations. That is reflected in the number of [fly-in] restaurants they have.” 

Overall, the website and book list around 1,670 restaurants that are easily accessible by aircraft in all 50 states and the Bahamas. The 269-page book last published in 2019 (an updated version will be available in 2022) highlights only restaurants that are on a public-use airport. The website also reflects eating establishments that are adjacent or nearby (with some a little further than that) to these aerodromes. 

The site also includes a list of various aviation attractions, as well as golf courses, camping spots, and hotels that are close by to airports. 

“I retired early, moved from California back to Houston, Texas, into a home I had owned for years but never lived in,” he said. “Once there, I opened the next chapter of my life, which gladly included flight. I bought a Cessna 150, hired a CFI to teach me what I had forgotten and all the things I never knew I never knew. 

“Soon I had [a private pilot certificate], but no place to fly as I was no longer working—I had no real mission. I knew about eight fly-in restaurants around Houston, which I would fly to over and over and over again.”

As Purner was getting started, the content business started to change and a community was born.

“The internet and the world wide web were just starting to catch on,” Purner said. “Having spent many years in the computer business, I decided to launch a website about fly-in restaurants. It was premised on an invitation to others to swap information about the fly-in restaurants my followers knew about. It became a community.”

The Trips Continue to Surprise

Purner himself has been to most of the fly-in restaurants that are featured in his book. And having maintained a dedicated first-person viewpoint on the on-airport eatery scene over the years, he has witnessed the ebbs and flows of the business. 

“I have been surprised by their success,” he said. “I have expected fly-in restaurants to become mere memories. They haven’t. Most thrive as the winners learn the secrets of addressing their market, which includes more non-flying locals than visiting pilots. 

“The planes in the pattern provide the central characters for the theme of airport restaurants. The locals come to see the free airshow and rub elbows with the characters that crawl in and out of their flying machines. 

“Airport restaurants provide fertile ground for the dreams of those that one day may fly.”

These restaurants’ continued history parallels that of the uncertainty caused by the COVID-19 pandemic that Purner nor anyone else could have expected. But it seems that overall, they have fared better than one would have initially suspected from the resulting negative economic impacts. 

“Very few restaurants have permanently closed,” Purner says. “The number [that have closed] is highly variable. A few have changed hands and names. Most soldier on.” 

“In an odd way, many restaurants were helped by COVID as business flyers went from commercial travel to personal aircraft. The same was true for recreational flyers. Private aviation was simply safer. It still is. Restaurants at reliever airports around big cities that serve business aviation traffic saw marked increases. 

“How about that? It is after all an ill wind that blows no good.”

Of course, there is still good in aviation and the freedom to fly oneself within the country. Highlighting this taken-for-granted fact is one of the positive side effects of the pandemic. And with this increased personal travel, and restaurants once again opening their doors, aviators were eager to dive into their favorite on-airport meals.

And one would be remiss not to ask the author who has spent many years of his life focusing on fly-in eateries which one is at the top of his personal list. 

“I love them all and couldn’t possibly name a favorite if I had one.”

 Instead, he defers this test of favoritism to the masses of hungry pilots who continue frequenting their favorite places and trying new ones. 

“We will put out our best of the best list in April 2022. That lets us know what our subscribers think.”

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If you are anything like me, an abrupt and bouncy touchdown on a gusty day leaves a lingering frustration. I can do better.

I’ve found that I’m not alone in the realm of self-criticism: Most pilots have a healthy relationship to judging one’s own performance—and boasting about it to boot. Are we always ahead of the airplane, efficient with ATC, or ready in the off chance our emergency training will be put to the test? Such questions are both constructive and positive; after all, the learning curve in aviation is always on a climb.

In my professional life, I continue to face the same dilemma. Authors are only as good as their last book.

So, when my publisher pitched me an opportunity to zigzag across the South to uncover, eat and document The South’s Best Butts (as in the cut of meat), I nearly leapt at the offer. After all, it sounded like a dream gig.

The only problem? The manuscript would be due in a few months.

My initial Type-A panic gently eased into a promising realization. You see, I had just bought my first airplane: a 1977 Piper Cherokee Cruiser, N9511K. Not only did I have an excuse to fly for that “$100 hamburger”—a pork sandwich in my case—but I’d found a way to pay for it too.

GA Dreams

As it goes, my introduction into the world of general aviation was both idyllic and embarrassing. Growing up, my childhood best friend, R.C. Hux, and I would spend our Saturday mornings off-roading golf carts up and down the red dirt hills that outlined Gwinnett County’s Briscoe Field, just outside of Atlanta’s Class B airspace. Meanwhile, R.C.’s father, Richard, would tinker away on whatever airplane he owned at the moment; an array of Cessnas, Pipers and once a Citabria filled his hangar, but my personal favorite was the T-34 Mentor he’d rebuilt by hand. After lunch, we’d set our sights on the skies, only to find out that my stomach was always bigger than my eyes.

They call it “Hotlanta” for a reason, and bumping around at 3,000 feet over Stone Mountain on a hot, humid summer day was just the right recipe for me to determine that I wasn’t particularly cut out for small airplanes—I’ll spare you the details.

Decades later, I moved to Nashville, Tennessee, leaving behind my alma mater in “God’s country” (Athens, Georgia) to settle in the Volunteer State. My family eventually moved eastward from Atlanta to Lake Oconee in Greensboro, Georgia. Frustrated that my four-hour drive home had now been extended to 5½ hours (sans any Atlanta traffic), I had grown weary of the traverse from Interstate 24 to I-75 to I-20.

One summer morning, I awoke to Nashville’s News Channel 5 announcing a new airline, SeaPort, bolstered by the Essential Air Service program, would offer daily round-trip flights between Nashville and Athens. A miracle. From that day forward, my wife, Callie, and I would pile into that Cessna Caravan nearly every weekend to visit family and friends at the lake—we were so spoiled. I jokingly told my wife that if the service ever stopped, I would get my pilot’s license.

In September 2014, the route was canceled. I started my flight training the following week.

I first met my flight instructor, Ed Diaz, on a hot, gusty day at my homefield of KMQY in Smyrna, Tennessee. I had told Kyle Willoughby, owner of Wings of Eagles Aviation, that I wanted an old-school instructor—perhaps someone even a bit rough around the edges. Kyle laughed, telling me he had “just the right guy.”

A Marine veteran, Ed went on to build a career as an engineer for Nissan (bringing him to Tennessee). On the side, he transformed his flight training cash into support for Catholic charities—never charging me the quarter-hour for “ground school” billed by the flight school software because he felt such training was just “part of the gig.” My kind of man.

Over the course of the next 12 months, I would head up in the air with Ed in N5140H, a Cessna 152 known for its hefty penchant of having the doors swing open at any moment. I should say that I’m forever grateful to Ed; he gave me my wings. Though Ed is now based in Puerto Rico flying commercially for Air Flamenco, I still hear his voice telling me to “watch my airspeed” and “fly the airplane” whenever I’m on final approach.

Air Barbecue

On this particularly hot day in August, I’m making a final approach into McKellar-Sipes Regional Airport in Jackson, Tennessee—and photographer Andrea Behrends’ equipment is strapped down in the back of the Cherokee. I can see her eyes are fixated on the runway. It’s our first run together and her very first time in a small airplane.

I often get asked how I find restaurants and sources to feature in my books. Honestly, I hunt down some places and people incessantly until they finally give in; others are referrals from friends and colleagues. And some, as is the case with Helen’s Bar B Q in Brownsville, Tennessee, are found by flying until you catch the sight of smoke and the smell of meat. Then, my friends, it’s safe to land.

In food writing, just like aviation, some questions are harder to answer than others. Take for example the most common question: What is barbecue? Though often asked, I think most folks don’t like my answer: It depends. Most Southerners will reluctantly agree that barbecue is primarily meat (pork in the Deep South, beef in Texas and Oklahoma, and mutton in Kentucky) cooked slowly and indirectly over hardwood coals. While each state—or, better said, region—has its variances and hypervarieties, great barbecue can be prophetic. It’s been the mealtrack to some of my fondest moments including my own wedding, and it is also usually there to comfort those who gather when a loved one passes on.

One thing that all lovers of barbecue will agree upon is that there are no shortcuts to great barbecue. Helen Turner of Helen’s Bar B Q is one of those pitmasters who does things the hard way: building her fires by hand in the early mornings and cooking various cuts of meats over smoldering coals, with no temperature gauges, thermometers or recipes. When I ask Helen how she’s able to pull off such great creations, she tells me, “I just do.”

Tough on the outside, Helen is even tougher when I ask her to divulge some of her secrets to share with my readers. Instead of putting anything to paper, she directs me to follow along to witness her madness. Like my own grandmother, nothing is measured, ingredients and steps are forgotten, and somehow the food tastes better than ever. The truth is, Helen cooks with love—and there is no recipe that can replicate that experience.

Though most great things related to barbecue happen “low and slow,” the truth is, in aviation, those words are a precursor for caution. So I’ll caution you more, as I must confess, I’m a “serial griller.”Low and Slow or…

Hot and fast—that’s the name of the game when cooking over live fires, which led me to my current work. After years of exploring everything as slow as molasses, I wanted to seek the advantages of what can transpire quickly. Though I’ll admit, my ol’ Cherokee is anything but “quick.”

Back in the skies, Andrea and I are making one of our most memorable trips for my book Serial Griller back to my alma mater and the beginning of this whole aviation mess altogether: Athens. It’s there where I finally meet Mike Bradshaw, the owner of The Grill, a place I have patronized for nearly two decades for their flattop hamburgers and crinkle-cut fries that I lovingly dunk into their homemade feta dressing. At this point, a few books in and with multiple flights under our belt, Andrea and I have settled into a rhythm as smooth as a Lycoming perfectly leaned at 7,500 feet.

The next morning, we depart Athens’ KAHN for Fulton County Airport-Brown Field, where controllers easily accommodate our little escapade into the Class B airspace. We’re on our way to meet Carlton Brandon, aka “Cadillac,” who is known for cooking up chef-driven cuisine outside of the late-night Atlanta institution The Clermont Lounge.

Asking a food writer their favorite cut of barbecue—or any grilled fare, for that matter—is akin to asking a parent which kid is their favorite. (Side note: As a parent, it depends on the day.) But I will tell you, Cadillac’s grilled jalapeño dipped in sea salt and chased with a grilled flanken rib still stands as one of the best bites I’ve ever had in my entire life.

Cadillac leaves me with more than just a great bite, though. When I ask him why he named his operation Lillian’s BBQ, he tells me it’s an homage to his grandmother. “You know,” he says, “Lilian taught me that if you can’t do anything, you can always feed somebody.” It reminds me that grandmothers are always right.

As aviators, we know that success lies much more in the journey than the destination. That said, hopefully some of these delicious destinations I’ve found throughout my travels might give you that extra excuse to get up in the air.

Great Airports for Fly-In ‘Cue

KEHR (Henderson City-County Airport) for Peak Bros. Bar-B-Q in Waverly, Kentucky

KPDK (DeKalb-Peachtree Airport) for Heirloom Market BBQ, Atlanta

KMKL (McKellar-Sipes Regional Airport) for Helen’s Bar B Q in Brownsville, Tennessee

5C1 (Boerne Stage Field) for B-Daddy’s Barbeque in Helotes, Texas

KLFT (Lafayette Regional Airport) for Johnson’s Boucaniere in Lafayette, Louisiana

KAVL (Asheville Regional Airport) for Luella’s Bar-B-Que in Asheville, North Carolina

Hangar Cookout Cred

Want to take your next airport barbecue up a notch? Maybe you have your own master recipe for grilling great food for family and friends, but take it from a pro, there’s always an opportunity to upgrade your skills—both in the airplane and on the barbecue.

Grilled Flanken Ribs: Mexican and Korean Styles

Serves 6-8

Hands-On: 1 hour

Total: 25 hours, 30 minutes (including 24 hours marinating)

Mexican Marinade

½ cup orange juice

½ cup mojo criollo marinade, preferably Goya brand

1 Tbsp. Tajín Clásico seasoning

2 garlic cloves, minced

Korean Marinade

½ cup soy sauce

½ cup brown sugar

1 Tbsp. garlic, minced

1 Tbsp. fresh ginger, minced

¼ ripe Korean or Bartlett pear, mashed

1½ tsp. sesame oil

4 lb. flanken ribs

6 baby bok choy

6 jalapeño chiles, cut lengthwise with seeds and ribs removed

Kosher salt, to taste

Combine the marinade ingredients for each style in separate gallon-size, freezer-weight Ziploc bags. Divide the ribs evenly and add to the marinades. Seal and refrigerate for 24 hours.

Open the bottom vent of a charcoal grill completely. Light a chimney starter filled with charcoal. When the coals are covered with gray ash, pour them onto the bottom grate of the grill and then push to one side of the grill. Adjust the vents as needed to maintain an internal temperature of 350-450°F. Coat the top grate with oil and place on the grill. If using a gas grill, preheat to medium-high (350-450°F) on one side.

Working in batches if necessary, grill the ribs on one side over direct heat, uncovered and undisturbed, for 5-7 minutes. Flip the ribs and cook for an additional 5 minutes. Move the ribs to indirect heat and place the bok choy alongside. Close the lid and cook the ribs for 20 minutes and the bok choy for 15-20 minutes, seasoning lightly with salt while grilling, until tender.

While the ribs and bok choy are cooking over indirect heat, place the jalapeños over direct heat and grill for 10-12 minutes, turning occasionally, until slightly charred and tender.

Remove the ribs, jalapeños and boy choy from the grill. Dip the charred jalapeños into kosher salt and serve with the Mexican ribs. Serve the bok choy with the Korean ribs.

This story appeared in the May 2020 issue of Flying Magazine

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