Five Seaside Picnic Ideas for Blustery Days

Why a Blustery Picnic Beats a Restaurant

There is a particular kind of hunger that only turns up after a cold-water swim. You stagger out of the surf with numb hands and a pink chest, and suddenly you would trade your car for a mug of something hot. That is the moment a seaside picnic earns its place. Not the neat, sunlit sort with a checked blanket and a bottle of something chilled, but the wind-battered version: a flask, a sturdy roll, and a slab of fruit cake eaten with your back to a harbour wall.

Cold-water swimming and seaside wellbeing go together because both ask you to be outdoors properly, in weather, rather than admiring it through glass. Eat outdoors in a gale and you notice more: the smell of kelp, gulls arguing over a dropped crust, the way the tide has rearranged the shingle since last week. Pack for the conditions rather than the forecast and a blustery day becomes the best sort of picnic.

Start With a Flask of Something Thick

Soup is the backbone of a windy picnic. Thin, watery soup goes cold in minutes and slops over your sleeve; something with body holds its heat and feels like a meal. Good candidates include leek and potato, spicy red lentil with cumin, celeriac and apple, or ham hock and split pea. Blend part of it and leave the rest chunky.

A few rules make a real difference. Preheat the flask by filling it with boiling water for five minutes, emptying it, then filling it right to the brim before screwing the lid down. Avoid pasta shapes and rice, which swell and turn to paste. Finish the soup with a knob of butter or a spoon of cream before it goes in; fat carries heat and flavour. Take a wide-mouthed flask so a spoon will fit, and carry the soup in the flask rather than decanting it into cups that the wind will cool in seconds.

Crusty Rolls That Survive the Journey

Soft, floppy bread is the enemy of a breezy picnic. Choose dense rolls with a proper crust: sourdough, wholemeal, or a good seeded bap. Cut them at home and butter both sides generously, which creates a waterproof layer between bread and filling.

• Cheese and pickle with a thick slice of mature Cheddar and a smear of chutney.
• Cold roast beef or ham with mustard and a few cornichons.
• Smoked mackerel flaked with cream cheese, lemon zest and black pepper.
• Hummus, roast pepper and rocket for the vegetarians, with a little harissa for warmth.
• Hard-boiled eggs carried whole, peeled at the beach, with salt in a tiny screw-top pot.

Wrap each roll tightly in greaseproof paper and then in a cloth. Keep them out of the bottom of the bag where they will be crushed by the flask.

Fruit Cake Is the Seaside Food of the Gods

Dense cake travels better than anything light and creamy, and a slice of it after a swim is close to medicinal. A traditional fruit cake, a tray of parkin, a ginger flapjack or a batch of Welsh cakes will all survive a rucksack, a dune and a gust of sand. Cut them into slabs at home and wrap them individually so you can eat with one hand while the other holds a mug.

If you want to gild it, take a small pot of thick cream or a wedge of salty butter. A flask of strong tea, or coffee with a pinch of salt in it, rounds things off. Sweet, hot and salty is the combination your body is actually asking for after cold water.

The Kit That Makes It Comfortable

Reusable cups and spoons are non-negotiable, and they should be the sort that can be dropped on shingle. Enamel mugs, stainless steel cups with a rolled rim, wooden spoons and a couple of tea towels will cover almost everything. Add:

• A square of groundsheet or an old sit mat, so you can perch on wet sand or cold stone.
• A dry bag for phones, keys and anything you don't want tasting of sea.
• A bin bag or cloth sack for taking every crumb home; gulls learn fast and bold gulls are a nuisance.
• Woolly hats and gloves, plus a flask of hot water for rinsing sandy hands.
• A small folding knife for cutting cake and cheese.

Find Your Shelter Before You Unpack

Wind direction decides everything. Stand still, turn until the wind is on the back of your neck, and look for somewhere within a short walk that breaks it. Sand dunes are the classic lee, especially the steep seaward faces where marram grass grows; tuck in behind the crest and you will find the air two or three degrees warmer and far quieter. Harbour walls are even better, giving a solid, sun-warmed backrest with a view of moored boats and a bit of shelter from spray.

Elsewhere, look for the shadow of a groyne, the landward side of a sea wall, a row of beach huts, or a raised promenade parapet. On a sandy beach, sit just behind the strandline where the sand is drier, and always check a tide table before settling. If the wind is carrying sand, move; nothing ruins a picnic faster than grit in the butter, and a short walk to a calmer spot is worth it.

Finally, plan the warm-up as part of the picnic. Towel off, get into dry layers, eat and drink while you are still glowing, then walk a mile along the coast to finish the job. Blustery days rarely look inviting from indoors, but they give you the beach at its emptiest and the best appetite you will have all week.