In summer I stop booking restaurants for lunch. Instead I pack a basket, find a slope with a view and let the afternoon take as long as it wants.
What goes in the basket
Flatbread from the bakery on the corner, white cheese, tomatoes that actually taste of something, a cold watermelon wrapped in a wet towel, and a flask of tea. Nothing that needs a knife more serious than a butter knife.
The trick is to go late, after two, when the families have gone home and the grass has cooled a little. Stay until the light turns gold.
