In the film adaptation of Emma starring a very young Kate Beckinsale, there is a scene where everyone goes on a marvelously indulgent picnic. They pile into carriages and tromp into a fine, sundrenched field accompanied by footmen and linens and roasted joints of meat. Every time Stephen and I tromp to the beach or the park with a quilt and a chunk of cheese, I can't help but think of myself in this context.
Even if I had access to be-wigged footmen (or could convince my Dear Boy to don a powdered hairpiece for my amusement), this isn't the type of picnic I'd enjoy. Still, there is something about nibbling out in the fresh air and sunshine that makes me think about history, both literary and factual. I wonder how many leisure activities have remained pleasurable through the centuries as well as picnicing. The unremarkable act of eating transforms into a nearly Dionysian, indulgent pastime when performed while lounging on the grass. If Manet is to be believed, this has long been so.
However, just because I'm in the mood for a picnic doesn't necessarily mean I'm in the mood to plan an elegant yet casual meal suitable for packing and transportation. Hardly anything makes a girl feel less like a relaxed Elizabeth Bennet than rearranging plastic containers of salami and olives to make them fit better in the backpack.
Lately, Stephen and I have been sidestepping this issue by having impromtu picnic cocktail hours. The San Francisco summer fog will settle in shortly, so we're trying to get as much sunshine and bare feet as possible. We celebrated Memorial Day with Pinot Grigio and strawberries and brandy cream in Golden Gate Park. Note: I find that nothing engenders a relaxed picnic attitude as effectively as a fantastic hat.
I think we enjoy the spontaneity of the cocktail picnic the most. If the sun come out or the wind dies down around five or six o'clock in the evening, we'll grab a bottle of wine, or a flask and a carafe of ice, and a snack and be to the beach or the park in a matter of moments.
It also helps to offset one of the few downsides this dedicated urban-dweller feels about her pad in the city. You see, I miss have a yard. Not (yet) badly enough to move out to the suburbs where I would be more than a five minute walk away from a decent burrito, but it pains me nonetheless.
When I was in college, while on summer vacation at home in Tennessee, I developed a habit of having a cocktail on the patio nearly every evening. I'd put on a sarong and mix up a mojito to sip while watching the sunset and sweating in the Southeastern heat. A gin and tonic while soaking up the brisk wind at Ocean Beach isn't exactly the same thing, but I think it fulfills the same time-honored urge to eat and drink out under the sky.
Martha, you really should have titled it the other way around: the fine art of drinking (and eating) outdoors =) Either way, you've obviously mastered it--the hat is key.
It all looks and sounds divine!
Hi Tejal
Great minds think alike! Who cares if it's brainwashing, I can't think of anything better than gin and tonics in the open air.
It is suspicious that both you and Martha, oceans and continents away, would be marvelling at the very same thing...
Oh my gosh, I just realized that you'll be having your coctail on the deck at our new home, in July. I don't even know yet which direction the west will be from our new back yard. This is really tripping me out. If I can get Abram to show me how, I'll post a picture of our old back yard at sunset for you.
Great, now I'm all tripped out too.