I’m doing a brilliant short course run by the National Gallery and recently we were studying The Adoration of the Golden Calf by Nicolas Poussin, a scene from the book of Exodus in which Moses is returning from Mount Sinai with the ten commandments, only to find his people, the Israelites, partying and worshipping a pagan bull god. In full-on party mode, dancing energetically with flowing robes, it’s clear they’ve been having a fabulous, hedonistic time in his absence.
Admittedly, this is not something we got up to as children when mum and dad were out, but Poussin’s scene did remind me of my parents’ parties and the seemingly endless, happy summer days when everyone was outside and music would play through my open window on a hot night as I drifted off to sleep. For us kids the best bit was helping to tidy up next day, purely for the chance to swig the remains of the drinks and finish off some stale crisps and peanuts.
My mother confirms that their parties could indeed be as wild as I remember, since it was the free and easy ’70s, a time when trendy dinners might include then-exotic recipes such as Italian lasagne with real parmesan (when each lasagne sheet had to be pre-soaked and draped around the kitchen like an art installation), or fondu suppers with saucy forfeits if you accidentally lost your bread in the gloopy cheese. Our home even had pampas grass, according to urban legend a bona fide sign that my parents were up for a good time, the only trouble being it was at the bottom of the garden where no one could see it. In truth, what we children perceived as truly wild behaviour from our parents was when, after a long dog walk, they’d pile inside the local pub with friends, leaving us outside with a coke and a packet of crisps each. Such uncharacteristic behaviour definitely felt like our mum had gone a bit crazy.
Humans have been partying and celebrating various summer holidays, festivals and rituals since Neolithic times, as I am often reminded during June’s solstice pilgrimage to Stonehenge, near where I live. Not that I’d think of the Neolithics when I’m planning a party – I’m more likely to channel the Greeks, and in particular the feasting Romans. Though not the Roman Emperor Caligula (37-41 AD) who topped the leaderboard for depraved rulership, his name synonymous not just with wanton hedonism but also cruelty, tyranny and insanity.
The pleasure principle has historically been represented as the preserve of the rich and powerful – think of the revelry in Emerald Fennell’s Saltburn or the notorious drunkenness of the Bullingdon Club’s private all-male dining club for Oxford University students – men behaving like teenagers behind closed doors so no one can tell them off. I think Julien Offray de La Mettrie, the French physician and Enlightenment philosopher who argued that the pursuit of pleasure is the essential aim of human life, would have given them a slap on the back and congratulated them.
Fill your belly with good things… feast and rejoice
Luckily, hedonism doesn’t have to walk hand in hand with wealth, drunkenness, cruelty or biblical guilt – nor is it the preserve of men. We can all follow the cheering advice given to Gilgamesh by the goddess Siduri in the poem Epic of Gilgamesh (written by the scribe Sîn-lēqi-unninni c1600 –1155 BCC), to “fill your belly with good things; day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice.”
For myself, I love a good summer party, an excuse to dress up and go out, or to lay a supper table for friends in the garden, chatting long into the night. Or just to sit outside alone with a chilled glass of rosé, listening to birdsong on those long evenings when it never really gets dark. It’s a feeling I need to store up for the long winter nights when even the thought of leaving the warm Aga to go upstairs to my cold room is just torturous. I think we are all a better version of ourselves on these golden days when our senses are heightened and smells, colours and sights are all so much more vibrant; it feels right to be out and about, and simple pleasure feels like a positive guiding principle in all our actions and thoughts.
Smoked Salmon Parcels
These make a fabulously rich lunch or starter.
Makes 2 large or 4 small parcels
Preparation time:15min
200g pack of smoked salmon
125g each white crab meat and cooked peeled prawns
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 teaspoon tomato ketchup
Dash of sriracha sauce
Salt and ground black pepper
1 lemon
Lay the slices of smoked salmon out on a large chopping board.
In a bowl combine the crab meat, prawns, mayonnaise and sriracha. Season to taste with salt, ground black pepper and lemon juice.
Place a spoonful of the prawn mixture on one end of each smoked salmon slice, carefully roll up and place one-two parcels on each plate.
Garnish with chopped chives and serve with lemon wedges and melba toast.
As an alternative replace the crab and prawns with chopped hard-boiled eggs.
Lydia Brownlow is a former cookery editor at Good Housekeeping magazine and contributor to The Daily Beast. She currently inspires children to cook. More info at lydiabrownlow.com
