Written for Edible Santa Barbara – Summer 2025
"There is nothing like eating outdoors. The taste of food is enhanced by the open air."
— Elizabeth David
After weeks of grey days when the fine, damp mist hung in the air, necessitating the wearing of an extra layer to ward off the chill, it was an absolute delight to wake up to clear blue skies dotted with the odd puff of a cloud, as the early morning light filtered in through my kitchen windows, heralding a warm, sun-kissed day, the sort of day when all one wants to do is to be outside, bathing in nature, caressed by a gentle breeze.
On days like this, I'll move my computer to my terrace and work outside as much as possible, hopefully not sidetracked by plants and gardening tasks trying to lure me away from my inbox! It's a time when I want to unplug, call up friends, and immediately enjoy the beautiful weather with them. Who knows when the fog will roll back in? As anyone who lives on the central coast can testify, the weather during some summers can be more grey than blue, and we treasure our fog-free moments during late spring and early summer.
Lured by sunshine like a moth to light, like so many others, I want to move all my meals outdoors too, whether a picnic, a barbecue, or a simple bowl of salad sitting on the terrace. What is it about eating outside that feels so special? Is it, as Elizabeth David says, that food tastes better? Or is it because we feel more relaxed? I always find that outdoor meals are less formal, and there's something almost celebratory about them.
My family has long been enamored with all sorts of al fresco meals, be it our version of a moveable feast, often an elaborate hiking picnic, to more planned and staged affairs, the doyenne of which was my grandmother, whose prodigious and sumptuous repasts left us all in awe. They had the feeling of Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party crossed with Claude Monet’s Le déjeuner sur l’herb. She had the unusual knack of being able to transport half the kitchen to the garden or in the car, complete with folding tables, chairs, linens, china, glasses, baskets of food, from delicately rolled herb omelets and skewers of grilled chicken, to delicate berries, crème fraiche, and hot coffee, and making it look effortless. Having tried to emulate her grand banquets, I can attest to the fact that these were major undertakings, and although I love plein air entertaining, I am perhaps more charmed by an impromptu gathering, a spontaneous, relaxed, getting-friends-together, for no reason other than it's a gorgeous day outside or I splurged on some magnificent fruit or vegetables at the market, and now I want to share them.
When I spied the first white peaches of the season this past month, I was drawn to them by the sweet, floral aroma. Once home, I cut one in half and savored its juicy flesh. I mused as sweet juices ran down my fingers. It was an idyllic interlude, and my mind wandered and pondered what to do with all the rest of the peaches, which, in turn, led to the creation of a crostini (see attached recipe), which led to wanting to share them with friends, which led to an impromptu early dinner on the terrace at home. 'What's the occasion?' one friend asked, 'Nothing,' I replied, 'well, actually, it's all because of a peach!'
I realized that one doesn't need an 'occasion'. It can be as simple as finding a perfect piece of fruit, or perhaps it's a Bowl night, and you're meeting friends for a bite to eat before the concert, or walking through the rose garden at sunset, or meandering along the beach, toes in the sand, listening to the ebb and flow of the ocean, whatever the reason, I believe that there are few pleasures, in our often media-driven-curate-image-hyper speed-over scheduled worlds, more relaxing than to enjoy the company of friends with the sun on our faces, no agenda, and a simple meal to share between us.
My son often gathers friends together for spur-of-the-moment teas. The more, the merrier, it seems. He makes a big pot of chai; someone may bring cookies or pick up a baked treat, and they sit out on the terrace for hours playing board games, discussing classes and plans for the summer, and generally laughing about the world around them.
It doesn't even have to be a meal. The French have a lovely tradition called l'apero. It's a simple, informal early evening gathering for a drink and nibbles. The nibbles don't have to be elaborate, perhaps a bowl of olives, some radishes with salt and butter, a fresh baguette, and maybe a little saucisson paired with a glass of wine, a Campari or Pastis. It's a time to decompress and enjoy being with people without the pressure of cooking dinner.
As we bask in warmer summer weather and the farmers talk of the tantalizing produce to come: big heirloom tomatoes, tiny golden Sungolds that burst with sunshine in your mouth, of ripe figs that pair so beautifully with tangy goat cheese and delicately scented lemon basil, of myriad zucchini and plump eggplants that beg to be turned into Ratatouille, I'm looking forward to more spontaneous, simple al fresco gatherings. I think of them as mini-holidays right here on our Riviera!
RECIPES IN THIS ARTICLE:
White Peach, Goat Cheese and Herb Crostini
Fresh Pasta with Heirloom Tomatoes and Summer Pesto
Peach and Pistachio Semifreddo
