ITS summertime. And that means one thing: its picnic season. Or as my younger brother used to adorably call it when he was a toddler: picnit!
Picnics are very important. I adore them. And picnics have long since been a serious tradition among some of my siblings and I.
There are always the more extravagant picnics like the ones near the seaside or the countryside. At the side of an ice cold rushing creek in the Rocky Mountains or even gliding on a boat ride.
But the most common one is the best one of all. At the park around the corner.
Or sometimes even the backyard.
Its not so much which exotic location you are at, but more that you are eating in the outdoors. And everything feels better and tastes better outside. A picnic is the joy of the informal, of sitting on the ground feeling free in the grass. Of spending quality intimate time with siblings or with good friends. Finding a spot in the sun or the shade. It is about eating without exacting portions, and about sharing. All rolled up into the coziness of a large spread out blanket or towel covered in mounted plates of food and treats. In short, it is wonderful!
To me, these are some of the essentials of good picnicking. Then of course, there are the books you bring and the food you eat.
Nice, simple, unfussy, cold food. Hard boiled eggs or deviled eggs, of course. Some cold meats, if it is meat. Or cheeses and crusty breads and chocolate pudding, if it is dairy. Always, always though, some cherries and strawberries and lemonade. And a slice or two of home baked cake! In a group of adults some nice chilled white wine to sip.
WHEN I was younger the picnic basket we used was made out of wicker and it was so huge, it practically looked like we were dragging the laundry hamper to the park or the beach.
I used to love spoiling my younger siblings and preparing them little picnics for us to enjoy. Most often I would prepare a fun and cold picnic sandwich. Of course, usually it was left over salad nicoise from the previous nights dinner, stuffed into a baguette or between two pieces of bread, all oily and vinegary and yummy.
Many other times, it was a matter of getting creative and coming up with interesting combinations, using the sole ingredients in the fridge. That was how many a summer picnic sandwich was born.
When we planned it in advance, for whatever reason Charlie Tuna always seemed to win out. In Israel it was always warm pita breads, hummus, olives, tomatoes and mediterranean stuff like that.
We would bring favorite books along, and read quietly or aloud, shaded under big protective and shady trees that were always there with us, our silent picnic companions watching over us.
Over time, we created some picnic traditions.
In fact, to this day, there is a particular tree spot in Crestmoor Park that always makes me sweetly think of picnics past that I had huddled at with some of my younger siblings.
Just once, I picnicked at more of an ooh la la lovely kind of picnic where we sat at picnic tables and benches, with wildflowers in vases at the center.
And just once, the picnic was a night time picnic under the glow of a full moon.
But most of the time, it is just spontaneous breakfast, lunch or dinner, coming up with what you have on hand. Simple and summery in the months of June, July and August. And even when it is just to the backyard, no matter what, a leisurely picnic feast always feels like a proper excursion.
Ah, summer. The joy!
Copyright © 2011 by the Intermountain Jewish News
