SUMMER WINE AND FOOD
The great outdoors
Katie Dashwood
Everything tastes better outdoors, and August, the weathermen promise us, will finally throw up opportunities to indulge in the pleasures of open-air eating. There is something carefree and leisurely about this style of entertaining, when spur-of-the- moment decisions to dine alfresco are made and everything is enhanced by all that nature provides in terms of scenery, scents, colour and sounds.
Eating outdoors has been common prac- tice for centuries since pioneers and early settlers set out through deserts and fertile plains, across mountains and rivers. Foods then were mainly gathered and hunted. Come the Victorian era, elegant hunting lodges, gazebos and pavilions built in the gentry's great parks became fashionable venues for outdoor feasting.
The French exemplify the essence of alfresco eating. A quick raid of their beloved markets for regional delicacies such as pates, rillettes, plump, free-range, spit-roasted chickens, runny camembert cheese and the compulsory baguette, all washed down with local wine form the basis of a repast worthy of the gods. It is not difficult to emulate their talent. Driving through Ireland recently, heading for the west coast, we eschewed the gourmet repu- tation of a magnificent turreted castle and headed instead for the village store where both meat and fish were ranged alongside newly baked breads and a mouth-watering deli counter. Emerging with generously sliced home-smoked salmon plus the requi- site lemon, a piping-hot cake of soda bread straight from the oven, a hunk of native cheese and proper bottled beer, we retreat- ed to the edge of Lough Corrib. As we basked in dazzling sunshine, the water gen- tly lapping to and fro beneath swooping seagulls, lunch had seldom tasted better.
I have fond memories of childhood Hebridean holidays when we laboriously grilled freshly caught and inexpertly gutted mackerel. Never mind that the flavours were those of sand and innards rather than fish; the adults bore their indigestion in heroic silence.
Whether packing baskets for beach, riverside, Highland fair or grouse-moor picnics (and, for the latter, what can equal potted grouse sandwiches?), rucksacks for Alpine walks or hampers of exotic goodies for tailgate buffets, the food must be tai- lored to suit each individual occasion. For example, ingredients to be consumed on a Tibetan mountain-top must be able to withstand sub-zero temperatures and alti- tude changes; so don't expect boiled eggs for breakfast!
The secret of successful outdoor cater- ing is adaptability. Dining in the garden is undoubtedly the simplest way since it enables those seasonal darlings of the kitchen garden to be savoured with maxi- mum enjoyment, with only the briefest touchdown in the kitchen between picking and eating. Ignore for once the temptation of holding out for full measure and seize everything when small and enticingly ten- der. Baby radishes and carrots, washed and dipped in coarse sea salt, make lively contributions to standard crudites. That ultimate vegetable prize, broad beans no larger than the nail of one's little finger, may be blanched and offered with Serrano ham or cubes of herb-infused feta cheese steeped in finest olive oil. Slices of trans- parently thin peeled cucumber, first salted to disgorge its juices, then dried, may be teamed with soured cream and dill or transformed into a cool, pistachio-green mousse with plenty of chopped mint. Small courgettes, sautéed then baked in thick savoury custards with marjoram and gruyere cheese, may be brought to the table immediately. Their flowers, mean- while, may be dipped in batter and deep- fried. As for the range of berries, summer without them is unthinkable. Sugared gooseberries lurking beneath a golden pastry crust are exquisite; as are raspber- ries in a host of different guises, while wild fraises des Bois remain a uniquely glo- rious treat.
As a general rule of thumb, however, food for other alfresco events must be robust enough to cope with the rigours of transportation. In this respect, authentic Cornish pasties (originally invented for the miners; savoury at one end and sweet at
SUMMER WINE AND FOOD
the other) fit the bill perfectly. So does an array of pies, luxurious terrines, egg and bacon rolls and galantines of duck and quail. Tortillas and Spanish omelettes are also suitable fare, while almond-studded fruit cakes complement wedges of mature cheese, and port bring things to a very sat- isfactory conclusion.
Catering aboard boats is an art in itself. Whether punting, cruising or sailing the high seas, cooks must remember that space is minimal and that kitchen galleys — if indeed they exist — are not the place for culinary masterpieces. It is true, though, that any fool can be cold, wet and miser- able living on Vesta curries. The obvious solutions lie in advance preparation and carrying plentiful stocks of tinned produce and perishables including oils, Parmesan cheese, onions and salt fish, i.e. cod. Gutsy soups, for instance minestrone, or when the day's catch nets fresh supplies, a fish bouill- abaisse, are ideal. Marinating meat pre- serves it for up to eight days; a whole smoked ham is a useful standby, while pheasant confit makes an inspired change. Above all, it deals with the perennial prob- lem of what to do with birds lurking in the freezer. Fruits in brandy,- such as cherries, make marvellous puddings.
Barbecues and camp-fires call for butter- flied lamb, ribs of beef and whole fish, skin slashed and filled with herbs; char-grilled vegetable kebabs and baked fruits, amongst them bananas.
Finally, when dining outdoors beware the vagaries of nature. Midges are one hazard — either take up pipe-smoking or pray for a sharp breeze — searing heatwaves anoth- er, rapidly rendering delicately moulded mousses into liquid pulp, while a deliber- ately undercooked fillet continues to 'cook- on' until pieces resemble curling shoe soles. That is not all. I once placed a basket con- taining a sumptuous lemon meringue roulade and a ton of summer berries under the car wheel in the shade. Several hours later, I lifted it onto the table purring smugly. At that moment an uninvited acquaintance passed by, paused and watched gleefully as it was cut. The interior revealed an army of ants which, attracted by its delectable aroma, had mercilessly invaded my piece de resistance. Her moment of revenge must have tasted divinely sweet as she .trilled triumphantly, `Well, ants for pudding; I only wish I'd been here for the main course.'
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