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| Picnics speak to us in summer, and I’ve heard the rains will abate at some point. For me, picnics speak a language of languor and ease, of feet in the water, of tables beneath grape arbors.
Keep the food simple and cold, but indulge yourself and your guests in some fresh creativity. Remember that cucumbers are crisp at the farmer’s market or the roadside stand, particularly the small picklers. Despite the rain, produce baskets are filling with the cherry reds and teardrop yellow tomatoes. Heirlooms, dusty pink and purple green, are mounded in the center. Slice a few with the cucumbers and sweet summer onions, toss with a garlicky basil vinaigrette and fresh mozzarella, and no one will regret it. I’ve noticed that everyone’s fig trees but mine are loaded with fruit. Pick the figs before the birds do. Split them open. Scatter crumbled feta over all and drizzle with honey. |
If you must, sprinkle them with chopped green pistachios. Or just take plenty of cheese, the kind that’s slightly dangerous, the kind that no one expected to see at a picnic. Italian Taleggio. French Morbier.
Don’t fall prey to the sandwich dilemma---lugging mayonnaise and mustard and catsup and three kinds of lunch meat and containers of sliced tomato, lettuce and onion and two kinds of cheese….Solve the issue of choice by making one big pressed sandwich the day or morning before with ciabatta bread, two meats, sliced pickled peppers, basil pesto, your favorite cheese, roasted peppers, marinated artichoke hearts… or just about anything you’ve ever dreamed of putting in a sandwich. Wrap the whole stuffed loaf with plastic wrap and weight it down with your heaviest pot for two hours. Take it to the picnic and slice it. Put mint in your lemonade. Or watermelon. Find a way to keep your wine cold and let it not be too serious of a wine. Be brave. Surprise your guests. Fall in love with your picnic fare. |
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