The Artemis II crew was hanging out somewhere between the moon and Earth this past Saturday, getting their heads right for the big lunar flyby happening Monday. It’s a long haul. They’ve got ten days of food packed away, but the way they eat is fundamentally different from what those folks on the International Space Station deal with—mostly because the ISS keeps getting fresh delivery drops, while these guys are flying solo.
Everything they have is shelf-stable. No fridges in the Orion capsule, obviously. I remember reading about those old Apollo missions where the food was notoriously grim—Commander Frank Borman famously called it “unappetizing.” NASA has come a long way since the days of tubes and mush, thankfully. They’re eating stuff like brisket, quiche, and even mac and cheese with cauliflower now, though the crumbs are still the enemy. You really don’t want a stray piece of bread floating into an air vent.
Actually, wait—let me double-check the drink situation. Right, it’s strictly capped. Just two flavored beverages a day, whether that’s coffee, tea, or juice. It’s all about the weight limits, which is a drag when you’re out there in the void.
There’s this hum in the office today, the rhythmic ticking of the radiator, that makes me think about how quiet it must be for them. NASA says they’ve got 189 unique items tucked away, and the crew actually got a say in the menu months before launch. They spent preflight time rating everything, trying to balance what they actually like with what’s nutritionally dense enough to keep them alert during a flyby.
Jeremy Hansen, the Canadian astronaut, mentioned the other day that he hasn’t really noticed that famous “space palate” shift yet—you know, how things usually taste blander up there? Or maybe he just hasn’t been up long enough. He did mention snacking on maple biscuits during that first day, which sounds like a decent morale booster, if nothing else. It’s funny—you send people into deep space, and they’re still just looking for a bit of comfort food before hitting the bunk.
It’s a tight operation. They pack two or three days of food in a single container to stay flexible, but once you’re out there, you’re eating what you picked months ago. Whether that holds up when you’re staring at the dark side of the moon, well, that’s another story.