A simple plan: pick up a few basic ingredients at some market near the park and drive up to a picnic spot. I hope you have done the same thing. The point of this post is to encourage this particular delight. I had in mind bread, salami, cheese and olives, great low-fuss stuff. No chaffing dishes required. The theme was a along the lines of a British ploughman’s lunch Good fortune helped make a good thing better.

Somehow we have managed to live in California for thirty years without visiting Mount Diablo State Park, only about 45 minute drive away. The local market near the park turned out to be Draeger’s in Danville, a definite stroke of good fortune. The local market might have been a convenience store, and our lunch might then have been Slim Jims and doughnuts. Draeger’s is, shall we say, upscale. They were featuring organic champagne that day, which identifies it as California upscale. Here is a fraction of their cheese case:

I focused in on the sign for Morbier. “Morbier: What looks like mold running through the center is actually vegetable ash which separated one day curds from the next. Meadowsweet aroma nets and hay. Try in a sandwich with sweet Chutney.” They go on to say it’s from France, made with raw cow milk, and you are advised to drink Pinot Noir with it. Cheese signs seem to often have problems, per my previous encounter with Humble Fog cheese. I suspect “nets and hay” should be “nuts and hay.” The only nets with a characteristic odor are fish nets, and the cheese was definitely not like that.

After other ponderous choices, the next step was to find a picnic spot. Mount Diablo is only about 3500 feet, but it is higher than anything nearby, so there are tremendous long views. The park features many one-table picnic areas, each with a sign giving it a name. We found the Muir Area just off the road within sight of the summit. More good luck, and with temperatures a pleasant 80 degrees and a slight breeze.

The makings were the Morbier cheese, Molinari dry salami, bread from “Draeger’s award-winning bakery,” and assorted olives from the store’s olive bar.

Molinari Salami is from San Francisco, within view from the mountain. The San Francisco paper did a comparative salami tasting and scored Molinari at 84. The second place finisher was 57, and other brands were “too low to rate.” It is darn fine salami. It contains pork but tastes beefy, has the right mix of fat, and is not too salty. It’s available from the Molinari web site.

Draeger’s bread lived up to it’s award, and the cheese was, well, meadowsweet for sure. We ate most of the olives. The thought crossed by mind that a fine meal had been assembled from simple basics. That idea was off base. The cheese was prepared laboriously in France with that layer of ash and the fishnet and all, then flown to us. The salami was an expert preparation. The bread was another expert preparation. Who knows where all the different types of olives came from, and what effort went into preparing them? The only thing simple was my part, unwrapping and eating them.

No Pinot Noir or organic champagne, alas, because Smokey the Bear is really strict. The diet Pepsi was as good as ever, but for some reason I didn’t bother photographing it. That part of the meal could use some work.

The expensive ingredients are not as lavish as it may seem. They are so rich, a little goes a long way. There was another picnic at home later.

Now your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to make a “simple” picnic of your own.