There's something about a picnic that gets me very overexcited. Like a small child again. Trying to work out why I love them so much, embarrassingly, I think it simply just comes down to greed. There is always so much to eat. Even if there's only four of you, you always end up with enough to feed a small army. It's what makes it exciting, so many different things to try.


Unloading one of our picnics

Chaz also loves a picnic. He even considered setting up a company when we lived in St Tropez delivering picnics to all the swanky boats and houses.
Just before the Cub arrived when I was too fat to get in the kitchen, he used to send me out into the garden and then would appear an hour later with a huge picnic basket full of treats.
At one of our typical picnics we usually had wraps instead of sandwiches. He'd make a little pick n mix bar of fillings. There'd be slices of chicken, bacon, ham, salad, tomatoes, hard boiled eggs. There would then be crudites and dips - hummous and tzatziki for me and taramasalata for Chaz. Boiled eggs and mayonnaise. Enough honey and mustard mini sausages to sink a ship. Delicious French cheeses - definitely an Epoisse and a brie in there somewhere. Parma hams and salamis. Big salads full of peas, roasted sunflower seeds, crumbled goats cheese and avocado. Maybe a barbecued sweetcorn. Basically anything and everything that was happy to be transported outside.


A posh picnic

Love a picnic in the bluebells



I'm going to have a big picnic this weekend and am going to ask everyone coming to bring three things each. I've been flicking through all my recipes this weekend trying to decide what to make. The Leon cookbook has a chicken superfood salad that looks pretty sensational. I might start with that.






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