Do you know that July marks national picnic month amongst many other things. Now, it is no surprise to celebrate picnics and our love of them as British folk. We enjoy any chance to share food, albeit very simple stuff with our families and friends. Some of us have sophisticated picnics with lots of great and inspirational food, others favour cheese spread on a Ryvita and tea from a Thermos flask!
My Mum loved a picnic, car picnics in the Winter time and proper outdoors ones come the Summer. She would knock up some sandwiches, pop in some fruit and a cake with the flask of tea. I hated beach picnics with sand in the cheese sandwich and soggy bread from the cucumber. My Mum sometimes had a posh picnic with blackcurrant tart and cream - out of a tin in those days! I didn't like the wasps which inevitably were part of the great summer British picnic. We had a picnic set in a brown wicker basket, yellow plastic cups and plates and white plastic cutlery, a ground sheet and a red check tartan effect rug. Garden chairs were also packed and this event happened frequently on Sundays.
Memories of iconic days. When I was married the tradition continued to a lesser extent, never sandwiches at the beach, too much fear of the old sandy, sandwich making a come back. But salads, and fruit and gone was the flask and in its place juices or water, from the tap and not bought in a bottle. We had seats or the grass and it felt different perhaps more sophisticated!
Perhaps you had an array of cooked goodies, salads, fizz in a glass and fresh fruit salads. Did you sit together on your rug or did you take chairs? Did your picnic come out of a delightful wicker basket?
The one thing that is important is the sharing of the meal simple or not with those whom you loved. It the thing for so long we have been deprived of and now it is the one thing we can easily celebrate again. Enjoy your picnic, in the garden, at the beach, in the park, with friends or family. Celebrate the joy of being together and sharing food together again and round a picnic basket or table or in the car!
Well, it's a hot summer's day and the park is closed anyway since we're supposed to be distancing to keep germs at bay So I'll spread out this cream colored blanket on my carpet floor and lay out these red gingham napkins that I've come to adore I'll set down a cheese board with parmesan and crusty bread that I've adorned with green olives and grapes shaded deep red I've brewed some iced tea that I've muddled with strawberries and chilled a bottle of rose with notes as sweet as cherries I've set myself a scene to spend the rest of the afternoon complete with a classic old book and my straw hat strewn There's a record on the turntable playing a concert missed but the main thing awry is you're not here to share in a kiss© 6 days ago, - Ashley Belle
The pandemic has indeed made picnics a thing to really treasure, whether they are are on a warm Summer's day or a romantic night time affair under the starts and watching that comet! It is a time to read, relax in the warmth or play bat and ball on the rich green grass or the smooth golden sands. It is a time to forget life out there and and either escape or indulge in silence or missed chatter.
Have you had a picnic yet, outside or in the house? A time to kick off your shoes and enjoy space and time, to recharge batteries and escape if only for a little while. Does it give you a purpose to create a delectable feast for body mind and spirit? Or are you a simple soul who just throws something simple together and focuses on pleasure and enjoyment? Just try and celebrate with a picnic how far we have come, being thankful for friends and family and warmer light days.
Food as a Symbol
Earth maker and Lord of all creation, we are mindful that this food before us has already been blessed by the sun, earth and rain. We pause to be grateful for the hidden gifts of life in this food.
Bless our eyes and taste so that we may eat this food in a holy and mindful manner.
We lift up this bread; may it be food and symbol for all of us who shall eat it.
- Edward Hays