Simple Pleasures of the Picnic

Not simply eating outside, a picnic is about tasty, portable food in a relaxing location. We'd been thinking about this simple get-away for a long time, longer than this season and how nice it would be to have a picnic. We packed our picnic basket, a family heirloom of my wife's grandmother, with simple dishes: deviled eggs made from this week's leftover hard-boileds, a pressed sandwich (bit of a flop), and homemade strawberry pie.

The eggs were an understated delight and probably could have easily carried the day on their own; no sandwich needed. I’d mention at this point, I’d never had a deviled egg until about five years ago. I am incapable of eating traditional potato salad (just can’t choke it down) and I thought they would be just like it. I had such fun making them, I think they might be a regular item anytime we’ve got the leftovers again.

The sandwich was a disappointment. Unable to find the bread I was looking for, I had to settle for a rustic semolina loaf that I normally adore, but which wouldn’t press down for anything. Added to this, I accidentally picked up a peppered brie instead of plain and this wasn’t to our liking either. The marinated sweet red peppers, double-smoked ham, goat cheese, and oregano were nice, but the big failing - too much bread. It looks pretty, but it’s not tasty. We picked out the middles to eat and moved on to the key item of the day: Fresh Strawberry Pie.

There’s not much needs describing. Light, sweet, juicy, and refreshing, the ripe June berries in the pie perfectly matched the kind of late June day we rarely get the Midwest: low humidity, 70s, and a light breeze. While we’d not been able to get our act together for a picnic for years, we lucked out with a stunningly perfect day.

Picnics are like little favors to ourselves. We’re going to eat a meal anyway, we can keep it simple and still make it special by where we choose to have it and the spirit with which it’s taken. The best part of today’s picnic rivaled even the pie; taking time for the sole purpose of relaxation.

As we lay back on our blanket, looking up at the kaleidoscope of maple leaves, thinking of the meal we had, the satisfied drowsiness we were half-heartedly fighting, I thought how it was only a short time ago we humans considered ourselves ‘indoor’ creatures. Maybe this was the way we were meant spend our time; certainly, it was easy to imagine we might be pre-wired to enjoy such repasts.

Maybe picnics aren’t get-aways after all. Maybe they’re get-backs. Getting back, at least for a bit, a pace of life that’s more human and more humane.

Best bites,
James