Tag Archives: picnic

Hillwood Gardens, Washington DC

Fulham Palace Picnic

Summer is fleeting. Before we know it, August will be gone and with it those sunlit balmy days perfect for an afternoon playing outdoors. Saturday I woke up with the curtains fluttering in the breeze and a radiant blue sky peeking through the window. It was a day so glorious, practically tugging me out of bed – a day that screamed “picnic”!

So we packed up the hamper and made a break for Fulham Palace to claim our perfect grassy patch in the sun.

Blankets laid out, we plunked ourselves down, cranked up BBC Radio 6, and uncorked an icy bottle of rosé. As if the planet’s hottest supercouple Brangelina haven’t done enough to better this world, now they give us this beautiful pale pink vintage from their Provencal estate.

A tip for judging rosé wines – the paler pink the color, the better. Pale peach and blush colored wines (like Provence and Pinot Noir varieties) are crisp and dry, while the bright fuscia and coral tinted ones (such as White Zinfandel) contain extra sugar making them sweet.

Toasting the Jolie-Pitts, I scurried off for a glimpse inside the Palace’s walled garden. I felt like I was sneaking in, despite it being open to the public, because there wasn’t another soul in sight! I admired the flowering beds of this beautiful oasis before scampering back to headquarters and flopping down in the sun.

Looking up at the sky, watching the clouds drift by, I took turns browsing my magazine and catnapping.

When we got hungry, we cracked open the hamper and tucked into some summery British foodstuffs – chargrilled, lemony asparagus starter…

Followed by something a little more American (well, South American)… chimichurri bavette steak with southwestern quinoa salad and fresh sriracha gaucamole.

And something unquestionably American, bold and spicy Buffalo wings!

(I’m not the biggest fan but my redcoat hubby loves them!)

We spent hours out in the sun. When we ran out of things to read and nibble and chat about, we staggered up and slowly strolled back home.

Glyndebourne Festival Opera

1 Reply

Glyndebourne is an English country house in West Sussex which hosts its opera festival every summer. It has been on my social radar for such a long time. I was beyond giddy to finally nab tickets to a performance. It meant sneaking away from work early to attend – shimmying into my satin gown and jewelry in the office toilets and then slinking off to catch a midday train from Victoria Station. But the journey just added to the thrill of appearing at one of England’s most distinguished and elegant affairs.

The London artistic community was out in droves, promenading the grounds before the performance. A porter assembled our table on the lawn and we tucked into our hamper for a few glasses of fizz, then ambled coolly through the landscaped gardens.

Glyndebourne grounds are dotted with garden sculptures

Bumping into familiar faces is a welcome surprise at Glynebourne

The opera was an incredible contemporary production of Rameau’s French baroque Hippolyte et Aricie – a vividly choreographed Greek drama. The towering scale of the stage production dwarfed me in the third row – stunning and overwhelming. The music was breathtaking, the dancers mesmerizing, and the characters occasionally humorous. I watched with rapt attention every little flick of the conductor’s baton – sometimes he abandoned it altogether and just directed with his hands.

By the interlude, I was dizzy with operatic fervor… or maybe it was the champagne, or perhaps hunger. In whichever case, we retired to the lawn to dine on our Leith’s-catered picnic supper.

Smoked Scottish salmon | capers, gherkins and lemon

Lobster salad | chicory and artichoke salad

Lemon tart with raspberry cream

The interval bell tolls at Glynebourne

Heading back inside for the final acts, I couldn’t help feeling like my evening at Glynebourne went by far too quickly! Its luxurious atmosphere embodies the epitome of civilized and cultured English tradition. This goes down as one of my favorite opera moments.

Henley Royal Regatta

4 Replies

A heat wave hit England this weekend so it was perfect weather to enjoy the boat races at the Henley Royal Regatta. Every year since 1839, society descends upon the picturesque town of Henley-On-Thames to picnic along the river and watch the historic event. It’s also somewhat of an Anglo-American contest with many American universities competing – I proudly cheered on crews from Harvard, Columbia and University of Virginia.

The Regatta Enclosure is a formal tented area along the riverfront where spectators can enjoy lunch or tea, traditionally accompanied by champagne or a glass of England’s favorite summertime drink Pimm’s. The atmosphere is very social and we settled back along the water chatting with new friends at our table.

Outside of the enclosure, racegoers gather along the Thames to share in the spirit of the competition. Corporate hospitality tents, private rowing clubs, and pop-up outposts of London nightclubs Juju and Mahiki line the riverbank. I browsed in a few of the shops and stalls to escape the blazing sun – and managed to resist a few impulse buys, including this fun feathered topper.

After a cloudless day by the water, I returned to London sun-kissed and happy. With Henley and Wimbledon finals taking place on the same weekend, there’s no beating England for summer sport at the moment.

Cotswolds Comforts

1 Reply

Spring has been categorically lousy this year, but with high hopes for summer just a few days away it was time for a visit to my favorite Cotswolds nursery to stock up on flora and fauna to beautify my terrace.

But first thing’s first – a piping hot cup of java from my dear Jaffé & Neale bookshop and cafe in Chipping Norton (or Chippy, as us locals call it). I could browse the shelves in here endlessly! There is always a recommended title or two that beg to be added to my reading list – and I make a point to follow their monthly bookclub picks.

Stopped to pick up some breakfast supplies at Hampers Food & Wine Co in Woodstock. The deli is to die for. If you ever fancy a picnic in Oxfordshire, they make gourmet hampers for collection. Just order online and pick up when you hit town!

Woodstock

Cool vintage Morris Minor – love the wicker hamper on the back!

My country breakfast staples

Fresh bread from Wyatt’s farm shop

Wyatt’s Plant Centre & Farm Shop in Chippy is your one-stop shop for all your gardening needs – and you can tick a few things off your grocery list while you’re at it. Every time I go here, I’m like a kid in a farm shop – I had to grab a doughy ball of this freshly baked bread to whisk back to London with me.

And now for flower hour!

Discerning eye for inspiration

Miss Greenthumb (I hope!)

After carefully honing my hanging basket arrangement skills, I’m well on my way toward domestic goddess status! Just need to remember to water them occasionally, right?

Sunday Picnic in Paris

1 Reply

Don’t go to Paris on a Sunday. Don’t waste your time. Why bother? None of the Parisians do – everything is closed (at least the authentic bits are). The only places where people show up to work on a Sunday are the Louvre and the d’Orsay. I wouldn’t deign to step foot in either. The queues are an English person’s heaven – lampoonish queues – literally queues without an end in sight. Hey, I love art probably more than the next guy, but I am so over cold, cavernous galleries and corridors filled with the same plundered antiquities. Frankly, it’s a bore and it has been for some time. Those limp hoards queuing for hours don’t know what they’re looking at once they’re in. It’s a mess.

As long as the weather was going to hold out for us, we were determined to take Paris by foot and cover as much ground as we could. After a prolonged roam through the Latin Quarter trying to seek out a mind-blowing petit déjeuner when everyplace was closed, we settled for a cafe across from St. Sulpice on the corner of Rue des Canettes. It was all locals. We ordered an emmantel omelette to share – but our garçon informed us they were already sold out of the croissants we’d desperately been craving. “You slept too long,” he told us. Touché.

The sights of Paris gleamed a little bit brighter after a strong coffee had awakened our senses.

We took in the ancient streets and alleys, the monumental architecture, the views from the Sienne, and a few artisan vendors who graced us with their sheer availability to conduct business. Here’s a run down of our foodie finds: