The picnic

Before we know it, there will be a nip in the air and winter will be upon us, so why not make the most of our last long, hot summer days and pack a picnic.

I remember when I was a kid we use to do this a lot; lolling around languidly all afternoon with the gentle breeze caressing our faces. I would lie on the blanket and look up into the vast blue sky and marvel at the enormity of it. This would evoke questions in my young mind like, "Where did I come from?" These memories are truly some of my favourite.

My mum would make a yummy cheesy onion tart and throughout the afternoon she would produce goodies from the picnic basket, packed with love in Tupperware containers. We would enjoy her famous chocolate and coconut slice or her butter biscuits with jam, accompanied by a cup of milky tea from the tartan patterned thermos.

We kids would venture off along the sandy edge of a river bed and collect mementos of the day, climb trees and pretend we were stranded on a desert island and conjure up ingenious ways we would make our new life and survive.

Not long ago, my husband, Harry, gave me and my sister, Joanna, for a visit to Essington Park, the most archetypal and well-equipped picnic basket, which he had in the garage gathering dust for the past 35 years. He said he purchased it in the mid-'70s at Harrods in London. Joanna and I just fell in love with it at first sight and accepted it with great enthusiasm, for our love of the picnic is very much part of our lifestyle.

Quite often, weather permitting at Essington Park, we'd take a blanket out into the garden and shade under the huge canopy of the old oak in the backyard. We would spend the afternoon grazing on leftovers from the night before. We'd read poetry, lay with the dogs, and take in the intoxicating and unique sounds and smells, which you'd only find in the country side.

We would drink wonderful wines and discuss philosophies until the magic hour arrives. Magic hour is the time of the day when the sun is just about to descend below the most far away hill and you can see the light dapple as it dances its way through the oak. The insects buzz in the fuzzy haze of the perfect afternoon, and the stillness stirs your emotions until you think life is truly wonderful.

The word picnic

If you look up the word "picnic" in the Macquarie Dictionary it says "an outing or excursion, typically one in which those taking part carry food with them and share a meal in the open air … Colloquial an easy undertaking."

My favourite picnic food

To begin, you must start with a loaf or two of your favourite bread — as fresh as you can get it — and double-smoked ham, sliced nice and thinly. Take some kind of chicken (it could be roasted in lemon and fresh thyme from the garden), or chicken drumsticks soaked in buttermilk overnight to become wonderfully tender and succulent, then breaded and fried and served with a yummy herby mayonnaise on the side. A creamy and crunchy coleslaw will always hit the spot, and a colourful arrangement of crispy crudités.

Add to the mix a cheesy, leek and gruyere tart with a sour cream shortcrust base.

My famous country-style green peppercorn and bacon pâté, always goes down a treat served alongside cold butter and blood-orange marmalade. A selection of cheeses and maybe some grapes are good, too. Chocolate brownies, milky English breakfast tea and cold homemade lemon cordial, are a really great way to end the meal.

Click here for my southern-fried picnic chicken with coleslaw