Packing The Very Best Picnic
The key to the perfect picnic, is to accept that perfect and picnic rarely go together. There are lovely picnics, adventurous picnics, romantic picnics and generally very jolly picnics, but a picnic, in its truest sense, cannot be faultless.
So if you are looking to put on a good picnic, {and when it's 30°C in London for the foreseeable, why would you not?}, don't try to make it perfect. Instead, accept that the joy of this particular style of entertaining is relinquishing control and giving in to unfamiliar surroundings.
Unlike entertaining at home where there always seems to be something else you can do, on a picnic you have only the essential elements of what you could pack and carry, so you have to commit to the experience as it happens.
My own picnicking memories are of floury white rolls filled with soft butter and ham, the requisite pork pie and a couple of packs of hula hoops. Usually followed by sliced apple and hunks of cheese. More often than not everything was passed back and forth inside the car, as the heavens opened.
As the rain steamed up the windows and we settled into a Miss Marple on Radio 4, I remember that feeling of cosiness and contentment. So when I come to assemble a picnic these days, whether for the Dorset headlands or a nearby London park, it is this simplicity and familiarity want to recreate every time.
I have honestly tried to do impressive picnics: Once, I was so thrilled to receive a last-minute invitation to Garsington Opera that I insouciantly replied saying I'd 'do the food'. When the interval came around I casually whipped out smoked salmon on sourdough, chicken and chilli noodles {dressing separate to prevent sogging}, followed by Eton mess for pudding – all hauled along in my little wicker hamper via Chiltern Railways. Not bad for two hours notice.
On a less impressive note, some years ago and for reasons I still cannot fathom, I decided to bake a 12 inch carrot cake for a picnic date, in the hopes of impressing a boy. Lord only knows why I thought that was a good idea, but needless to say I cut it, he ate half a token slice, before I had to cart the whole thing back up Petersham Hill - moron that I am.
It was after the latter I realised a) men who don't appreciate baked goods are no good and b) that effort is not the way forward with blanket and bare foot entertaining. From there on I decided instead to focus on a few basic essentials, done really well.
The Hamper
Yes, they look great. Uh-huh, you will absolutely look chic and romantic toting your wicker and gingham finery, but in reality they’re clunky, keep nothing cool, and if I’m honest have the potential to be more Red Riding Hood than Bardot. So consider your terrain.
I used to be a committed cool bag and basket girl until receiving a very lovely Fortnum & Mason champagne hamper as a wedding gift. Or if schlepping up a hilltop {rare} then do not rule out a rucksack. It allows you to walk further from other people {ideal}, travel by bicycle if needs be, or disembark a yacht with grace...rather than as if you were transporting a week's worth of laundry.
Whatever your chosen carrier, get a couple of freezer blocks and place these at the bottom, then pop your food on top.
The ideal spot
I will never understand people who pull up at the side of the road and immediately set out their folding chair beside the A42. No need to go full Bear Grylls here, but maybe walk a minimum of 15 feet to somewhere where you can no longer taste the car fumes.
Whilst we are on this, don't set your blanket down in an overly sunny spot. Comfortable picnics require shade, so instead opt for a dappled patch of grass beneath a big shady tree, just be sure to check for ants' nests before you lay the blanket.
Glasses and dinnerware
Take proper glasses, wrapping them in napkins to prevent breakages. Always take washable napkins and proper plates. Yes, it means you have to carry them home, and there will be washing up, but you'll be saving the planet and it'll make for a better setup, so deal with it.
The food
Bread A nice crunchy fresh loaf or baguette that can be torn off by everyone works best. Chipolata sausages marinated in a little runny honey and wholegrain mustard - enough to flavour them but avoiding them being overly sticky. Some cured meats. A fresh salad - either chopped tomatoes, torn buffalo mozzarella, seasoning and fresh basil on top. Or I favour the very french Salade de carrottes rapees, or grated carrot salad to us Brits.
For this, grate 6 {ish} carrots, then, in a jar mix together the juice of a lemon, 2-3 tbsp of olive oil, a dab of Dijon mustard and a sprinkle of sugar, and season to taste.
Washed Radishes. Medium boiled eggs with some celery salt at the ready. And to finish, if you’re not within reach of an ice cream van, I recommend a paper bag of english cherries, washed and dried before you set off.
The drinks
Feel free to go for champagne if that's your thing, though personally I prefer to keep it simple with an easy-going rosé or bottle of white. Whatever it is, ensure the bottle{s) are really cold. The wraparound coolers that you pop in the freezer may look geeky, but can't fault 'em for ensuring your bottles arrive perfectly chilled.
I also like to mix up some elderflower cordial with sparkling water in a glass bottle and add slices of lime a handful of fresh mint leaves to stay hydrated! Alternatively you can go full Famous Five with some ginger beers.
The blanket - should be big and ideally not too scratchy on bare legs. Soft beach towels, a big cotton throw, or if you're in the back garden, a nice sturdy old carpet works a treat!
Lastly, always take one bag for your rubbish and one for used plates and glasses, and in the words of Andre 3000 remember "You can plan a pretty picnic but you can't predict the weather."
Give me regards to the ants xx