WHEN I started writing this piece, several weeks ago, it was a beautiful sunny day, light breeze, scudding clouds in a deep blue sky.

I think we all remember that day, because it seems that was our summer, more or less. Now it’s all thunderstorms and downpours. Seems all-too familiar. And just in time for the school holidays!

Still, we mustn’t let it get to us and in the spirit of ignoring the weather in the hope that it’ll improve, today we’re in picnic mode.

Time to dust off the hamper, pop the gingham tablecloth in the washer and get the road atlas out. I’m not such a big fan of the traditional picnic, I must say.

Stamping on ants and trying to stop your scotch eggs from rolling down the inevitable incline while simultaneously attempting to keep an ice-bucket upright isn’t really my idea of fun.

It’s always uncomfortable, too, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows as you tackle a French fancy. And the tidying up! Oh my.

But if you can do it properly with a table and chairs and a bit of planning, the taking of a meal in the great outdoors is pretty much unbeatable. And picnic food is unquestionably brilliant.

From the aforementioned scotch eggs to tender chicken drumsticks, from Gala pies to slices of cold pizza (you must try this if you’ve not done so already) and on to bowls of strawberries, banana sandwiches and chocolate brownies, picnics are a feast for the eye and the palate. Going to a little trouble, like making an elderflower cordial (which you should be doing right now as we’re in full season) or fresh lemonade, is rarely more worth it than for a family meal in the great outdoors.

This week, I’m offering up something you may not have seen before, but I guarantee it’ll be a firm favourite the first time you try it.

For our picnic recipe, we look over the Channel to France. Today, we’re making the delicious Pan Bagnat. In the original Occitan it translates as ‘wet bread’, which you might imagine is of more interest to ducks.

But wait … Pan Bagnat is, to all intents and purposes, a salad squashed into a loaf of bread. Now, before you all run for the hills saying I’ve cracked, let me assure you, folks. It’s fantastic. All the fun of a big salad in a handy slice – juicy, tasty and portable.

You can make big loaf-sized ones, as I’m doing here, or little individual versions using ciabatta rolls or similar.

Pan Bagnat originates in the place where its ingredients thrive, Provence. And this is as it should be, for here is where the silvery anchovy shoals shimmer in the warm waters of the Mediterranean.

Further out in the dark, inky depths lurk the tuna, fast and muscular, their flesh meaty and firm. On land, the vine tomatoes ripen to perfection, brimming with flavour, the basil grows like weeds and salads grow tasty in the rich soil.

The olive oil flows like water and every village makes use of the local boulanger – crusty, crunchy, yeasty breads made every day.

So what better place than here to invent the Salade Niçoise and its portable cousin, the Pan Bagnat?

I can’t think of many better dishes that encapsulate the summertime and take very little time to put together. Just remember that you’ll need to let the sandwiches squash overnight, so plan ahead. Aprons on!