In The Physiology of Taste (1825) the epicure Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin describes the charm of a picnic party:
At the appointed hour we see arrive light carriages and prancing horses, loaded with the fair, all feathers and flowers. Seating themselves on the green sward, they eat while the corks fly and there is talk, laughter and merriment, and perfect freedom, for the universe is their drawing room, and the sun their lamp. Besides they have appetite, Nature’s special gift, which lends to such a meal a vivacity unknown indoors, however beautiful the surroundings.
Mrs Beeton sets down the quantities required for a picnic for 40 people in her Book of Household Management (1861):
A joint of cold roast beef, a joint of cold boiled beef, 2 ribs of lamb, 2 shoulders of lamb, 4 roast fowls, 2 roast ducks, 1 ham, 1 tongue, 2 veal-and-ham pies, 2 pigeon pies, 6 medium-sized lobsters, 1 piece of collared calf’s head, 18 lettuces, 6 baskets of salad, 6 cucumbers. Stewed fruit well sweetened and put into glass bottles well corked, 3 or 4 dozen plain pastry biscuits to eat with the stewed fruit, 2 dozen fruit turnovers, 4 dozen cheese cakes, 2 cold cabinet puddings in moulds, a few jam puffs, 1 large cold plum pudding (this must be good), a few baskets of fresh fruit, 3 dozen plain biscuits, no butter, a piece of cheese, 6 lbs of butter (this of course includes the butter for tea), 4 quartern loaves of household bread, 3 dozen rolls, 6 loaves of tin bread (for tea), 2 plain plum cakes, 2 pound cakes, 2 sponge cakes, a tin of mixed biscuits, ½ lb of tea. Coffee is not suitable for a picnic, being difficult to make.
Babur, the first Mughal emperor, writes in his diary about an excursion in Afghanistan while on campaign in 1520:
Marching next day from that ground, I made an excursion up the valley-bottom of the Barik-ab towards Qurinq-sai. A few purslain trees were in the utmost autumn beauty. On dismounting, seasonable food was set out. The vintage was the cause! Wine was drunk! A sheep was ordered, brought from the road and made into kebabs. We amused ourselves by setting fire to branches of holm-oak. Mulla ‘Abdu’l-malik dïwâna, having begged to take the news of our coming into Kabul, was sent ahead. There was drinking until the sun’s decline; we then rode off. People in our party had become very drunk; Sayyid Qasim so much so that two of his servants mounted him and got him into camp with difficulty. We rode into Kabul at midnight.
In her memoir Period Piece, artist Gwen Raverat describes an Edwardian family picnic on the river Cam in Cambridge:
It was a grey, cold, gusty day in June. The aunts sat huddled in furs in the boats, their heavy hats flapping in the wind. The uncles, in coats and hats and mufflers, were wretchedly uncomfortable on the hard, cramped seats, and they hardly even tried to pretend that they were not catching their deaths of cold. But it was still worse when they had to sit down to have tea on the damp, thistly grass near Grantchester Mill. There were so many miseries which we young ones had never noticed at all: nettles, ants, cow-pats… The tea had been put into bottles wrapped in flannels (there were no Thermos flasks then); and the climax came when it was found that it had all been sugared beforehand. This was an inexpressible calamity. They all hated sugar in their tea. Besides it was Immoral. Uncle Frank said, with extreme bitterness: “It’s not the sugar I mind, but the Folly of it.” This was half a joke; but at his words the hopelessness and the hollowness of a world where everything goes wrong, came flooding over us; and we cut our losses and made all possible haste to get them home to a good fire.
Food writer Claudia Roden recalls her childhood in 1940s Egypt in Picnics and other Outdoor Feasts:
My favourite was on the dunes of Agami in Alexandria. It was timed to coincide with the arrival of migrating quails on the beach. The birds fell exhausted, to be caught in large nets and collected in baskets. They were cleaned and marinated in a rich cumin and coriander sauce and grilled on the beach over small fires. Fresh Arab bread was bought from the vendors… The hollow rounds of bread were cut in half, opened out and placed under the birds to catch their flavoursome juices; then the quails were gathered in them to be eaten as a sandwich, soft bones and all.
At the appointed hour we see arrive light carriages and prancing horses, loaded with the fair, all feathers and flowers. Seating themselves on the green sward, they eat while the corks fly and there is talk, laughter and merriment, and perfect freedom, for the universe is their drawing room, and the sun their lamp. Besides they have appetite, Nature’s special gift, which lends to such a meal a vivacity unknown indoors, however beautiful the surroundings.
Mrs Beeton sets down the quantities required for a picnic for 40 people in her Book of Household Management (1861):
A joint of cold roast beef, a joint of cold boiled beef, 2 ribs of lamb, 2 shoulders of lamb, 4 roast fowls, 2 roast ducks, 1 ham, 1 tongue, 2 veal-and-ham pies, 2 pigeon pies, 6 medium-sized lobsters, 1 piece of collared calf’s head, 18 lettuces, 6 baskets of salad, 6 cucumbers. Stewed fruit well sweetened and put into glass bottles well corked, 3 or 4 dozen plain pastry biscuits to eat with the stewed fruit, 2 dozen fruit turnovers, 4 dozen cheese cakes, 2 cold cabinet puddings in moulds, a few jam puffs, 1 large cold plum pudding (this must be good), a few baskets of fresh fruit, 3 dozen plain biscuits, no butter, a piece of cheese, 6 lbs of butter (this of course includes the butter for tea), 4 quartern loaves of household bread, 3 dozen rolls, 6 loaves of tin bread (for tea), 2 plain plum cakes, 2 pound cakes, 2 sponge cakes, a tin of mixed biscuits, ½ lb of tea. Coffee is not suitable for a picnic, being difficult to make.
Babur, the first Mughal emperor, writes in his diary about an excursion in Afghanistan while on campaign in 1520:
Marching next day from that ground, I made an excursion up the valley-bottom of the Barik-ab towards Qurinq-sai. A few purslain trees were in the utmost autumn beauty. On dismounting, seasonable food was set out. The vintage was the cause! Wine was drunk! A sheep was ordered, brought from the road and made into kebabs. We amused ourselves by setting fire to branches of holm-oak. Mulla ‘Abdu’l-malik dïwâna, having begged to take the news of our coming into Kabul, was sent ahead. There was drinking until the sun’s decline; we then rode off. People in our party had become very drunk; Sayyid Qasim so much so that two of his servants mounted him and got him into camp with difficulty. We rode into Kabul at midnight.
In her memoir Period Piece, artist Gwen Raverat describes an Edwardian family picnic on the river Cam in Cambridge:
It was a grey, cold, gusty day in June. The aunts sat huddled in furs in the boats, their heavy hats flapping in the wind. The uncles, in coats and hats and mufflers, were wretchedly uncomfortable on the hard, cramped seats, and they hardly even tried to pretend that they were not catching their deaths of cold. But it was still worse when they had to sit down to have tea on the damp, thistly grass near Grantchester Mill. There were so many miseries which we young ones had never noticed at all: nettles, ants, cow-pats… The tea had been put into bottles wrapped in flannels (there were no Thermos flasks then); and the climax came when it was found that it had all been sugared beforehand. This was an inexpressible calamity. They all hated sugar in their tea. Besides it was Immoral. Uncle Frank said, with extreme bitterness: “It’s not the sugar I mind, but the Folly of it.” This was half a joke; but at his words the hopelessness and the hollowness of a world where everything goes wrong, came flooding over us; and we cut our losses and made all possible haste to get them home to a good fire.
Food writer Claudia Roden recalls her childhood in 1940s Egypt in Picnics and other Outdoor Feasts:
My favourite was on the dunes of Agami in Alexandria. It was timed to coincide with the arrival of migrating quails on the beach. The birds fell exhausted, to be caught in large nets and collected in baskets. They were cleaned and marinated in a rich cumin and coriander sauce and grilled on the beach over small fires. Fresh Arab bread was bought from the vendors… The hollow rounds of bread were cut in half, opened out and placed under the birds to catch their flavoursome juices; then the quails were gathered in them to be eaten as a sandwich, soft bones and all.
