Muffaletta (or the ultimate picnic sandwich)

In the time before children (the B.C. that matters to me!), I ate in restaurants a lot. Like, a lot. And I’m so glad that my kids are at an age where they know how to behave (mostly) in any restaurant (mostly). They love it, too, and ask at least once a week if we can eat out. Of course the answer is often no since four of us at even a modest place can add up. But when we’re getting together with friends with kids I’d rather eat my own head that go to a restaurant. Somehow every well-behaved child simple forgets everything he or she knows about restaurant manners and a mania takes over them. They MUST go to the washroom together, crawl under the table to find dropped toys, speak at volumes appropriate for rock shows and basically behave like animals. So, no thank you.

But now that summer is slowly making itself felt, there is another fantastic option for getting together with pals – the picnic. It’s one of our favourite ways to socialize and we do it nearly once a week in the summer. Whether it’s a weekend lunch or a weekday dinner, meeting friends at a park so the kids can run around and we don’t have to worry about bothering anyone is perfect for this stage of parenting. I’m always on the lookout for additions to my picnic repertoire and this is my new go-to. The Muffaletta sandwich is full of sandwich classics: ham, cheese, tomatoes… but the way its pressed together makes it easy and more delicious to eat. The best bread for a Muffaletta- in my opinion – is a boule, the round, deep French loaf. But they’re not in every bakery or grocery store, so you can absolutely use a wide, Italian loaf. You just want something fairly large, you’re going to pack a lot in there.

Photo by Maya Visnyei

I recently made this for a picnic we had to welcome the newest addition to our friends Andrew and Christina’s family: Isabel. The lady of the hour slept through much of the party but the rest of the kids ran like a pack, sat briefly to re-fuel, then ran again. The grownups lounged and chatted under shady trees. Rancho relaxo, people. Oh, and the Muffaletta disappeared almost as soon as I unwrapped it.