RHYS BOWEN: One of my favorite things about summer is picnics. The idea of sitting in a beautiful surrounding and opening a picnic basket full of goodies has always appealed to me. When I was a child we often drove to the coast, about an hour away. My mother always packed a picnic and we chose a suitable spot in a field (making sure there was no bull in residence first) or in a grove of trees. We’d spread out a blanket and out would come the sandwiches: salmon and shrimp paste, cheese and pickle, ham and mustard, egg and cress. There would be fruit from our trees and of course some good biscuits/cookies. My parents always carried a vacuum flask of hot tea so we’d round off the meal with a good British cuppa.
My dream picnic is the one described in the Wind in the Willows. Do you remember it? When the Rat takes the Mole for a boat ride. Talk about mouth-watering. I’ve always wanted one of those picnic baskets that is equipped with everything. I do have one but it’s only okay. And these days one needs a cooler for the wine!
My favorite picnic memory? When I was at the BBC two friends and I had the same day off (we worked shifts in the drama department). So we popped into Selfridges and bought a cold chicken, fresh crusty bread, some cheeses, grapes and a bottle of chilled wine. Then we took the tube out to Kew, rented a boat on the river and rowed until we found a lawn area, shaded by a willow tree. We sat in the shade, tearing off bits of cold chicken, sipping chilled wine and then sleeping in the shade. I still smile at that memory.
And it’s triggered another memory: My mother’s 75th birthday in Australia. She didn’t want to go to a restaurant but wanted a picnic on the headland overlooking the ocean. My brother and his wife’s family provided the goodies: every kind of seafood you can imagine—oysters, lobster, shrimp, Balmain bugs—a type of crab. Dipping sauces. A cheese platter, a fruit bowl. Several salads. And of course champagne and birthday cake. We sat and ate and drank and swam all day. Heaven.
Alas, I am married to a non-picnicker. He doesn’t like getting sand in his food, or bugs, or sitting uncomfortably on a blanket. If I pack a meal he wants to eat his in the car as we drive. No romance in his soul at all. I do manage to fit in a picnic when one of the kids is visiting or when we are on vacation. IN England these days it’s so easy with ready-made food at pret-a manger or Marks and Spencers who have wonderful pork pies, sausage rolls etc etc. Hopefully we’ll be able to do that this fall when we go to England and France.
So my ideal picnic would be:
Homemade sausage rolls
Baguette and brie
Assorted olives
Assorted salami etc
Maybe a quiche
Fruit in season
Dark chocolate
Okay, what have I left out?
So are you fans of picnics? What are your must-haves?
HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: That sounds glamorous and wonderful, Rhys. And i do envy you! ! I, um, well, I hesitate to say, but I am not a picnic fan. Oh, I know, I am not romantic, or experimental, or flexible. Bugs, hard ground, no chairs, heat. No bathrooms, no ice. Bugs. Melty food. Salmonella. Garbage. Unpredictable weather. Dirt, sand. Bugs. Dirt. May I go with your husband to a restaurant? Outdoors is fine, really, we can pretend it’s a picnic. Oh, look, it’s training! Nope, that’s just me and my wet blanket.
RHYS: Okay, you and John can have a boring, civilized meal while we have fun with the ants and bees.
JENN McKINLAY: What lovely memories, Rhys. My parents were big picnickers when I was a kid and we usually went to lovely nature spots on Sunday afternoons and Mom wowed us all with what she could stuff into a basket and cooler. After running around for hours, we would decimate her labors like a troop of ants.
I love a good picnic. When Hub and I were dating it was cold chicken, potato salad, and frosty beers while we sat on a blanket on the green in Prescott. Later, we incorporated the boys but, alas, kids grow up, and parents get busy so it’s been a minute since we’ve had a proper picnic.
DEBORAH CROMBIE: Rhys, your perfect picnic could be mine! In fact, all your picnics sound divine. Picnics in Texas, however, are not nearly so idyllic. (Think Hank's bugs, squared, with a dose of miserable heat.) But my parents loved to picnic on car trips, so we stopped in many a roadside park with our Kraft Sharp Cheddar, Triscuits, and tins of sardines. Very messy but delish! But my favorite picnic memories are from traveling with them on rail passes in Europe and England. On the trains in France we had baguettes and French cheeses and wine; in England cold pork pies with bottles of cider and fresh-picked Cox apples. Yum.
LUCY BURDETTE: Still howling from Hank’s reservations about picnics! I would say my favorite picnics are those described in THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS. I would go anywhere with these characters! Here’s one description:” There he got out the luncheon-basket and packed a simple meal, in which, remembering the stranger's origin and preferences, he took care to include a yard of long French bread, a sausage out of which the garlic sang, some cheese which lay down and cried, and a long-necked straw-covered flask wherein lay bottled sunshine shed and garnered on far Southern slopes.” Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows
RHYS: Okay, if we have a Reds picnic we’ll have to remember to have a table and chair, screened in with a bug screen, for Hank! Who else has an aversion to bugs? Sand? Sitting on the ground? And who loves picnics?


















