Once the preserve of Aristocrats, loved by Hitchcock and Manet, we take a look at why picnics are still today one of life's true luxuries.

Reading time: 7 Minutes

Man does not live by murder alone. He needs affection, approval, encouragement and, occasionally, a hearty meal.” – Alfred Hitchcock

On a picnic in the south of France, Frances Stevens (Grace Kelly) pulls chicken from her basket and provocatively asks John Robie (Cary Grant), “You want a breast or a leg?”. The picnic scene in Hitchock’s 1955 film “To Catch A Thief” is one of the most memorable scenes in one of the most memorable movies in cinematic history. If not the most famous picnic on celluloid, it would certainly rate as perhaps the most stylish. Interestingly, there isn’t actually a picnic in David Dodge’s original 1952 book upon which the movie was based, and John Robie doesn’t eat fried chicken with “call me Francie” Stevens. But Hitchcock wanted action and local colour, so he invented a reckless motorcar ride that ends with a picnic at which Stevens attempts to seduce Robie. It’s pure Hitchcock with sparkling dialog by John Michael Hayes. Hitchcock had a great passion for food and wine, and his movies are peppered with scenes where food plays a role. That he chose a picnic here is no coincidence. After not-so-humble beginnings amongst French aristocrats in the 18th Century where it was all the rage, the pleasure of picnics may have become ubiquitous by the mid 20th Century, however it never quite lost its connotation of luxury (and excess). 

There is some debate about the origin of picnics, but there is general agreement that picnics were originally the preserve of the French upper class. One version was that the picnic came from the salon, where picnics were initially indoor affairs and where invitees were compelled to bring a dish or drink or contribute to the cost in some way. These lively affairs became synonymous with parties and the “picnique” – or subscription ball – was born. Another version suggests that prior to the French Revolution in 1789, picnics were a leisure activity enjoyed by the French aristocracy at grounds such as Versailles where they enjoyed ‘fêtes-champêtres’ (or pastoral feasts), open-air affairs which involved dressing up for a day of music, dancing and other simple activities including food where one would picque (pick or peck) at a nique (a thing of little import). 

Manet’s “Le Déjeuner sur L'herbe” (The Luncheon on the Grass) from 1863

After the French Revolution, these royal grounds opened to French citizens and picnics were democratized and became incorporated within leisure activities of society at large both within France and abroad, thanks largely to French aristocrats fleeing the guillotine for safehaven in Italy and then England where some formed the infamous - and later banned because of their antics - “Picnic Society” in rooms in Tottenham Street. The spread of the picnic meant that by the mid 1800s informal outdoor meals were commonplace enough to be portrayed in artworks such as Manet’s “Le Déjeuner sur L'herbe” (known in English as The Luncheon on the Grass) from 1863, a picture that scandalised at the time, and remains debated even today, for suggesting by the presence of one naked woman and another half-dressed woman in the company of two men, that there may have been more than food and witty conversation going on. Monet went on to paint both a tribute and challenge to Manet's controversial painting naming it the same name. The work started in the spring of 1865 and measured over four metres and wasn't completed until 1920. By then, the picnic had secured its place in everyday life and art.

Claude Monet, Le Déjeuner sur l'herbe 1865

Naturally for something that derived from aristocratic beginnings, certain rules of etiquette evolved. According to Debrett’s, the authority on etiquette and behaviour, and publisher since 1769 of Debrett's Peerage & Baronetage, this included: 

• Location: scoping out the location of the picnic beforehand to ensure there is both adequate sunlight and shade available

• Accessories: a picnic hamper, crockery and cutlery, and adequate seating, including blankets, cushions, and chairs

• Food: food that is relatively easy to eat, ideally with one’s fingers

• Guest expectations: clarity on whether others are to bring anything or not

• Cleaning up: leaving no trace of the picnic

Debrett’s also goes on to discuss other picnic essentials such as how to deal with the presence of children and dogs, footwear on blankets (take shoes off, and sit with feet tucked in and pointing away from food or other people) and the need to wear practical attire. What it fails to mention is that the food should be plentiful and delicious, the drink (and potentially alcohol) should be abundant, and that elements of entertainment might be considered – for example some music or a set of pétanque or bocce.  So while sensible advice, this English etiquette seems to have sterilised the picnic completely. 

Elizabeth David, the cook-writer who almost single-handedly introduced French and Italian cuisine to the English-speaking world, also loved a good picnic and devoted whole chapters to it in her books, including her classic “Summer Cooking”. The Sorbonne-educated David drew on her experiences traveling during the war in France, Greece, Italy and Egypt in her writing, and the way she captured the flavours, colours and smells of the foods and places in her recipes meant that hers became a form of travel writing, of exploring other cultures and lifestyles.

At the outbreak of WW2 she sailed around the Mediterranean with her already-married lover - including a stint where they were both mistaken for spies and imprisoned in Italy. One of her favourite picnic dishes was the pain-bagnat or “bathed bread”. A dish that comes from Nice, not far from where To Catch a Thief was filmed, pain-bagnat has become a European picnic classic. French housewives trusted it to use up old bread. To make pain-bagnat, one uses round, flat loaves rubbed with garlic, then covers them in (tinned) tuna, anchovies, tomato, olives, olive oil, salt and pepper. The bread can even be marinated in olive oil, then strained off (or bathed). It’s a dish redolent with the taste of the Mediterranean. 

Elizabeth David in her kitchen in Halsey St, Chelsea, 1960’s

In Australia, far away from the Mediterranean sunlight, the picnic has become indelibly associated with Joan Lindsay’s “Picnic at Hanging Rock”. While not as glamorous as Hitchcock and the French Riviera, to the average Australian, the story of white-frocked schoolgirls Miranda and Marion and their teacher inexplicably disappearing on a picnic on St Valentine’s Day 1900 deep in the Australian bush, has exercised a mythical hold on the imagination. The book first appeared in 1967, but it wasn’t until Peter Weir’s visually stunning (some would say haunting or elemental) 1975 movie that the story entered popular culture.  The Hanging Rock picnic, like that in To Catch a Thief and Manet’s painting, is suggestive of appetites, gastronomic and carnal, of passion and sexual transgression. The picnic occurs on St. Valentine’s Day, the day celebrated by lovers, and the girls disappear into – perhaps swallowed by - the heart of a large rock formation. 

A scene from Peter Weir’s film “Picnic at Hanging Rock”, 1975 

Elizabeth David, who wrote for Vogue – something Nigella Lawson would later emulate as a stepping stone in her own brilliant career as a writer-cook - may have travelled extensively but she never made it to Australia, and she probably would not have approved of Hanging Rock as a picnic destination, always preferring places where she could see and hear water rather than gumtrees and rocks. Her closest encounter with Australia may have been her chance meeting with the Australian cook-writer Margaret Fulton when David (briefly) ran her eponymously named cookwares store in Pimlico London in the 1960’s, and which she eventually left after falling out with her business partners for refusing (against their insistence) to stock garlic presses, an instrument she loathed and which she insisted confirmed its user’s lack of intelligence.  Fulton, the gas-appliance-saleswoman turned Australia’s home-cooking darling, visited the shop and the two shared a civilised cup of tea. Like David, Fulton also enjoyed a good picnic and devoted chapters to them in her books, except her recipes typically had a distinctively Australian slant.  Nonetheless, both made a point of bringing to their respective audience foods which were wholesome, tasty – and more adventurous – than was the norm for the times. 

Perhaps the recent “picnic peak” (peak-nic?) was COVID where it was for many the only legal way they might enjoy the outdoors and the company of others. Social media was awash with photos of picnics and excess during this period. Covid also saw the rise of the luxury picnic, in some cases complete with special accessories (think custom tables and chairs), macaroon towers and string quartets. It seemed for a moment that we had come full circle. The French aristocracy would have surely approved. In a post-covid world which is slowly returning back to normal, now that the initial pent up demand of international travel is abating and we are once again focusing on what’s local and close to us - we have once again learned to enjoy the picnic for what it is, where luxury really lies as much in the time taken out and enjoyed, the conversation and wit shared amongst friends, the beauty of the accessorised spread, as much as the foods and drinks that are on offer.