Of all the many charming eccentricities that I witnessed when I moved from Jerusalem to London in 1997, it was the Brits’ total, unequivocal, wholehearted worship of the sun that struck me most.
Back then, I’d watch for hours (from a warm spot protected from the wind and rain, obviously), and in total disbelief, as people wearing flip-flops flocked to gardens and public parks to have picnics. Shorts and mini skirts suddenly took the place of sensible thermal undergarments, even though the temperature was nowhere near what any rational person would call mild. It seemed bonkers to eat outdoors in what, to me, were near-Arctic conditions, just because a few sunrays had broken fleetingly through a dense layer of dark cloud.
Back home, you see, the sun held similar powers over the locals, but in quite the opposite way – it drove them indoors, causing alarm or respite by its presence or absence. “Shall we eat outside today?” would be the question. “Not in this sweltering heat,” was the only sensible answer, and I’m talking April or May here. By August, outdoor dining during the daytime is inconceivable: the heat of the sun forces everyone inside to eat.
All these years and winters later, I now understand the great British appetite for alfresco dining – the concept has to have a foreign word, of course – even if I haven’t managed fully to embrace it. I, too, now wear flip-flops and shorts in what my childhood mates would regard as laughably chilly temperatures, though I’d be lying if I said a checked blanket and wicker basket feature much on sunny weekends.
On the rare occasions when I am dragged outdoors for a meal, however (mercury levels need to be close to breaking local records for this to happen), I try to make sure it’s pretty exceptional by preparing two or three really special dishes, rather than default to the traditional huge spread of picnic-style food – scotch eggs, sausage rolls, quiche, coleslaw, potato salad and baguette – that all too often ends up soggy and going to waste.
The trick is, whenever possible, to keep all the various elements of a dish separate and to put it together at the last minute. So, keep dressings, sauces, salsas and garnishes in sealed jars; and wrap meat, fish, cooked vegetables and baked goods in protective foil. This also means that, when the weather turns and the sun gives way to a raging storm, everyone can rush back to shelter and quickly put a full meal together in a warm, dry place.
Dressed side of salmon
The salmon fillet I used for this was 38cm long, which fitted snugly on the diagonal inside a large oven tray. If your fillet is larger, you may need to trim it or even cut it in half; for serving outdoors or on a picnic, you may need to divide the fish into smaller portions before cooking. Serves eight.
1.3kg side of salmon, pin-boned and descaled
150ml white wine
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 bay leaves
5g picked thyme leaves
1 large onion, peeled and roughly chopped
1 lemon, skin shaved off in long strips, flesh finely chopped (discard pith and pips)
20 peppercorns
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 large bunch herbs, to cover a serving platter (parsley, tarragon, dill or thyme)
For the salsa
3 tbsp olive oil
80g capers, drained and patted dry
50g pine nuts
50g cooked brown shrimps
1 mini cucumber, peeled and chopped into 1cm dice
20g tarragon leaves, chopped
Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Lay the salmon skin side up in a large, high-sided baking tray lined with baking parchment. Mix together the wine, oil and half a teaspoon of salt. Pour over the fish, then scatter over the bay, thyme, onion, lemon skin and peppercorns. Cover the tray first with baking paper and then with foil, to seal completely, and bake for 25 minutes, until the fish is just cooked through.
While the fish is cooking, make the salsa. Put a small saucepan on a high heat and add the oil. Once hot, add the capers and fry for three minutes, until they pop open and crisp up. With a slotted spoon, transfer to a plate lined with kitchen paper. Tip the pine nuts and shrimps into the hot oil and cook, stirring regularly, for about a minute, until the pine nuts are golden brown. With a slotted spoon, transfer to a bowl, leave to cool for a few minutes, then stir in the cucumber, tarragon and chopped lemon flesh.
Remove the cooked fish from the oven, carefully lift it out on to a long, low-sided platter lined with your herb of choice, then peel off and discard the skin. Strain 50ml of the cooking juices into a bowl and whisk with the lemon juice, a quarter-teaspoon of salt and a grind of pepper.
To serve, pour the dressing over the fish, spoon salsa on top, covering as much of the flesh as possible, and sprinkle the crisp capers on top.
Turkey koftas with broad bean and herb salad
These are delicious warm or at room temperature. For a picnic, dress and season the salad at the last minute, or omit it altogether and serve the koftas with just a drizzle of lemon juice. Makes 12 koftas, to serve four.
50g crust-free white bread, torn into small chunks
80ml full-fat milk
500g minced turkey (or chicken)
½ medium red onion, peeled and roughly grated
1 tsp ground allspice
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp dried mint
1 tbsp thyme leaves
10g parsley, finely chopped
20g barberries, soaked in 3 tbsp boiling water for 10 minutes, then strained
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 tbsp sunflower oil
For the salad
400g fresh or frozen broad beans, blanched for 3 minutes, drained, refreshed and skinned
Finely grated zest of ½ lemon, plus 1 tsp lemon juice
1 small garlic clove, peeled and crushed
10g mint leaves, torn
10g basil leaves, torn
5g coriander leaves
5g tarragon leaves
1 tbsp olive oil
Put the bread and milk in a large bowl, mix and set aside to soak for 10 minutes. Add all the remaining kofta ingredients except the oil, season with three-quarters of a teaspoon of salt and a good grind of black pepper, and mix to combine. Shape into 12 koftas each about 8cm long and 3cm wide.
Put a large frying pan on a medium heat and add the oil. Once hot, fry half the koftas for eight minutes, turning them regularly so they go golden-brown all over. Set aside and cook the second batch of koftas.
Just before serving, mix all the salad ingredients with a quarter-teaspoon of salt. Put three koftas on each plate, spoon some salad alongside and serve at once.
Raw sprout and chicory salad with gorgonzola dressing
If you plan to take this on a picnic, it would be tempting fate to pack a jar of dressing, a pot of soured cream and some extra oil, so instead of using half the cream in the dressing, as in the instructions below, add all the soured cream and forget the final drizzle of oil. Sprinkle the dukkah on top only at the last minute. Or forget the dukkah altogether and top with shards of crisp bacon instead – that works very well, too. Serves six.
200g mixed sprouts (eg mung bean, chickpea, lentil, alfalfa, aduki)
1 yellow chicory, ends trimmed, leaves separated and cut on an angle into 2cm-wide strips
15g tarragon leaves, roughly chopped
350g cauliflower, broken into 2cm florets (about half a head’s worth)
60g kale, shredded
2 granny smith apples, cored, quartered and thinly sliced
3 tbsp dukkah
About 1 tbsp olive oil, to serve
Salt
For the dressing
150g soured cream
70g gorgonzola, roughly crumbled
150g buttermilk
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1½ tbsp lemon juice
To make the dressing, put half the soured cream in a medium bowl with the other ingredients and three-quarters of a teaspoon of salt, stir gently to combine and refrigerate until needed.
When you’re ready to serve, put the sprouts in a large bowl with the chicory, tarragon, cauliflower, kale and apple. Pour over the dressing, toss gently to coat and transfer to individual bowls. Sprinkle each portion with dukkah, and finish with a dollop of the remaining soured cream and a drizzle of oil.
