Picnic Day

My sister Ellen made the observation that Thanksgiving is unique among holidays, in that food is its cause and food is its practice. We celebrate having food by having food. There's no sulfurous fireworks, or dressing up for church, or presents to open—you just make food and eat it. But Thanksgiving happens in the winter, when berries and peaches aren't abundant, so Ellen proposed a second great-American food holiday, to occur on the last Saturday of July, and be known henceforth as Picnic Day.

How sad that today is the last Sunday in July. You missed Picnic Day because you didn't know about it yet. How mean of me to taunt you with it! (I would have told you last week, but I couldn't be bothered.) You could celebrate it today, or in the near future, but it wouldn't be the same. Your best option is to add Picnic Day to your calendar now, with a reminder ahead of time.

Probably, over the next three hundred Picnic Days, some specified menu will become the norm. For now, the rules are loose: A Picnic Day celebrant should make any food that (1) sounds delicious and (2) accommodates outdoor eating. Step one is to make the food. Step two is to pack it up and go someplace airy and shady, perhaps watery, treey, or mountainy. Step three is to eat. And that's the whole deal! You can stay in the wilds as long as your picnic lasts.

Should you need inspiration for your Picnic Day, see if any of the following tempts you:

• Finger sandwiches on homemade rolls, with fresh tomato and basil, black pepper, balsamic reduction, and seasoned butter.
• Onigiri with smoked salmon—little triangles of sweet, sticky rice with black sesame seeds and flaked salmon, belted with a ribbon of nori for modesty. A Japanese picnic tradition.
• Celery with peanut butter, because not everything needs to be a fancy-ass marathon.
• Blackberry/blueberry hand pies.
• Thai salad rolls—lettuce strips, bean sprouts, julienned carrots, radish slices, mint leaves, and baked tofu, all in a salad roll wrapper. Wrap that in a lettuce leaf for transport. Peanut sauce on the side for spooning.
• Three-year aged gouda on those long, scrumptious gourmet crackers.
• Homemade ginger beer.
• Potata Salad. (Don't trust a recipe where you know the o is pronounced.)
• Quick-pickled cucumber or cauliflower.
• Regular, non-pickled cucumber slices with salt and pepper.
• Cornbread with honey butter.

I'll stop there, but if my newspaper fails, I might start a 1-900 hotline where hungry people call me and I read them explicit recipes.

Anyway, sorry about this year, but I'll see you at the lake in 364 days, with something tasty to trade.