Consuming interest
Basketwork
By LESLIE ADRIAN 'THREE dozen quarts of ale: . . . Ginger beer, soda-water, and lemon- ade, of each 2 dozen bottles, 6 bottles of sherry, 6 bottles of claret, champagne a discretion . . and 2 bottles of brandy.' No, this is not the drink order for a bump supper, merely a list of what Mrs. Beeton thought necessary to in- duce appetite and decorous jollity at a picnic for forty guests. Victorian picnics, like Victorian families, were on the grand scale. Mrs. Beeton did not omit to mention that three corkscrews Would not be too many and, if the crown cap had been invented when she was writing in the late 1850s, she would certainly have added half a dozen bottle-openers to the picnic kit.
But in 1960, out of thirty-eight picnic cases Illustrated in a Selfridges catalogue thirty-five arc not equipped with either corkscrew or bottle- opener. Cases costing from £7 to £16 are crammed with the manufacturer's selection of the necessities for al fresco dining, but only the More elaborate kits priced from £12 to as much as £24 (the first is for two, the second for six People, and aptly named 'Ascot') include any device for getting at the contents of -a bottle. And even at Ascot. with the eponymous outfit, you Would sip your champagne from plastic Mugs.
To be insured against that awful moment when y\oti suddenly realise what has been for- gotten may, for some people, justify the extrava- gance of a fitted-out picnic basket, which can cost as much as a Skira art folio or a weekend In Scotland. It is one of life's more trying mom- ents to be faced with a can and no can-opener In the heart of eagerly sought-after solitu‘for With a large and hungry party, a loaf of bread and nothing sharper than a butter knife. Yet I have still to find the picnic case equipped with a tin-opener, and less than half of those I exam- ined in the stores had a knife which could cut anything tougher than processed cheese.
It seems that we pay through the nose for the services of the jigsaw man, the expert who cun- ningly squeezes the maximum amount of plastic ware into the minimum possible space. (I wonder if be also designs those subtle plastic toys from which children may learn the logical order of things.) The equipment for four people to eat out of doors, including two large vacuum flasks and a vacuum jar, packed into a rexine-covered wooden case, costs a few shillings under £13. The same generous array of boxes, jars, flasks, china and cutlery bought separately and fitted into your own basket would show a saving of £4-£5, depending on the quality of, the basket. A per- fectly serviceable picnic set could be assembled from scratch for a total outlay of £4. (I regret the absence of a Nabarro to unravel the reasons for these price discrepancies, which have nothing to do with purchase tax.) As far as my researches go it appears that only Boots sell a fitted hamper without adding about 40 per cent. to the cost of the components. Their furnished hampers are cheap (one equipped for four costs 67s. 6d.) and unpretentious. There is room for extra plates and cops if they are needed, too. Most of the cleverly devised and expensive units are packed so neatly that to pro- vide for an extra person would mean carrying an extra basket.
As a start towards fitting out a basket (far superior to a case, even a ventilated One, which is inclined to retain the smell of food) Selfridges stock good-quality willow baskets at 29s. 6d. The London Association for the Blind (257 Tottenham Court Road. WI, MUSeum 3220 charge a little more for their well-made buff- willow baskets, which have the advantage of fastening with leather straps instead, of cane slots.
The aristocrat of hampers comet from Lord Roberts Workshops (122 Brompton Road, SW3, K ENsington 3243). They are deep and square, with a handle on top and spacious enough to allow a large vacuum flask or a wine bottle to travel standing up. The lid has straps inside which will secure china • and cutlery, and the interior has two compartments for cups or jars. Stoutly built of high-quality varnished buff-willow, these baskets should survive a lifetime 'of family picnics. They cost 58s. 6d. (14 x 14 x 12 in.) and 87s. 6d. (18 x 18 x 12 in.).
Some picnickers like to make tea on the spot or heat up soup, and for these operations a com- pact, efficient stove is needed. The July num- ber of Which? has a timely article on the per- formance of twenty-one such stoves. Without my going into details, the testers chose the Meva No. 1 from the paraffin pressure stoves (27s. 6d.), the Primus No. 71 (L) from the petrol pressure stoves (42s. 6d.), the Express Picnic Outfit methy- lated spirit stove (3s. 4d.; it takes ,longer to heat water, but not so long as the solid-fuel kind) and Super Bleuet and Unigas Senior from among the butane burners (59s. 5d. and 48s: respect- ively). The Sirram Volcano burns any rubbish and costs 45s.
A small irritation, repeated over and over again, can make one pointlessly furious, and one such persistent scratch is the habit some firms have of giving one a double number: not 47 Blank Street or 53 Blank Street but 47-53. Pre- sumably they put it on their writing paper to
'Quite frankly. Ackland, I like 10 see it. smog or no smog.'
show how much space they occupy; but why should I have to write it out every time? From now on, I write to one street number only.
Which? recently did a test on paper hand- kerchiefs which came down in favour of Kleenex for Men for strength and economy. Let us hope that it will not remain, like Scotch and soda, some- thing which nice girls regard as unfeminine how- ever badly they are in need. One point they did not make: the infuriating habit Kleenex have of putting a stiff-paper advertisement for lavatory paper in the top of their boxes. Why not at the end? If you have reached the end of the tissues any other paper may be welcome: if it is some- thing which stands between you and a whole box of Kleenex, it is merely an irritant.
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