I love picnics and not just because I really like the name. For a Brit, the chance of eating outdoors without getting rained on is of course a risk but one always worth taking. The food tastes different, the atmosphere is more relaxed and one has the joy of going somewhere beautiful to spend time with friends; a solitary picnic isn’t much fun. Nowadays, a picnic can fill me with nostalgia: afternoons while at university when a group of us would take a punt up the Cam instead of studying for our exams. We chaps wore boaters and stripy college jackets and the girls were in their flimsiest Laura Ashley. The wine was kept cool by sticking the bottles in the river but I suspect that the food was not very original because none us had kitchens. But it was obviously good enough for us to be attacked by hungry swans once, who must have found our sandwiches more interesting than their usual damp fare. One of them actually snatched something right out of my hand only inches from my mouth. I have been wary of them ever since and am glad that once I helped to eat one.

Ireland and Scotland both produce some of my favourite mashed potato recipes. Having spent last week in Dublin and since I am writing this in Glasgow, it seemed a nice idea to share some of them. All of them are solid fare and have oodles of butter and even cream. One can always reduce the quantities of either in the interests of gastronomic virtue, I suppose!

Just had a very good week in Glasgow, apart from the weather, that it is. Our neighbour’s son, Roddy is a sculptor and one of his works, Cleitus, lives in their garden.

I have just a spent a delightful week in Szombathely (Hungary) recording Schubert with Capella Savaria. We were working in a beautiful 19th century synagogue which is now a concert hall and on the other side of the street are the ruins of a Roman Temple to Isis. The city is really historic. Two famous people were born there: one real and the other fictitious. St Martin of Tours was born there in the fourth century while, in James Joyce’s Ulysses, Leopold Bloom comes from Szombathely; indeed there is a house in the town square that was owned by a family called Blum in the 19th century but that is pure coincidence. There is a whimsical statue of Joyce on the outside wall.

Don and Kay Baumhefner are among our very best friends. He is a wine maker and she is a chef, one time restaurateur and writer. They live in Petaluma in a charming house with an enormous kitchen. We all have birthdays in the same part of the year so we have a great excuse to celebrate together, usually at Chez Panisse in Berkeley. In 2000, at a party at César’s, Kay produced this amazing persimmon pudding which has been a favourite ever since. It is now a regular part of any winter feasting and is always very popular with everyone.

One of the things that I treasure is a manuscript recipe book which was begun in 1851 by Miss Louisa Jane Harrison (1829-1902) of Hundow near Kendal in Westmorland UK. She married Thomas Collier and they became my great-grandparents. The book is very neat and orderly and luckily her handwriting is clear. From the recipes it would seem that she had a sweet tooth for there are so many for cakes and puddings.

Kit Leland and her husband Hayne live just down the hill from us. As you can see from the photo, they have a spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge from their deck. Kit served on the Board of Philharmonia Orchestra and often organized our annual Gala; something she did superbly. Over the years they have become terrific friends. They host wonderful dinners and over cocktails we get to admire the view. One evening she made this lovely California version of Bouillabaisse which we adore.

Michèle Stone and her husband Harry Howe are great supporters of music in the Bay Area. They are also gastronauts of the highest order. We sampled her version of caponata a few weeks ago and immediately asked for the recipe. They had just returned from a trip to Sicily – somewhere we are dying to visit one day. One lovely thing about this recipe is that the eggplant (aubergine) is baked rather than fried which makes it healthier. As a character in Little Britain said “if it has half the calories, you can have twice as much!”

“Pouding Chomeur” is a typical French Canadian dessert. It is VERY sweet and has almost no fat and no eggs, which is why it is called “Pudding for the Unemployed.” This recipe comes from my aunt Francine, which should be very close to the one my grandmother Labelle used to make, and made often.

In the 1970’s my parents bought a weekend cottage in Over Haddon in Derbyshire which became our home after my father’s death. These oatcakes are a local specialty sold in butchers’ shops rather than the bakers’. They are totally different from the little, crispy oatcakes beloved by the Scots. They are the size of dinner plates and make terrific trenchers for a typical British eggy breakfast. They are equally good slathered in butter and marmalade. For me they are a great nostalgia food that waft me back forty years to the time I lived in that magical part of the world.

Gordon & Stella McDowall are our downstairs neighbours in Glasgow, Scotland. They are the best, kindest friends on the planet and we always look forward to coming to our place in order to spend time with them, especially over delicious meals.