Let the food be an accompaniment

More often than we realize, it's the company that makes the meal.

This became evident when my wife and I recently celebrated our sixth anniversary, an affair we otherwise marked by mowing the lawn, painting the porch and trying hard to stay awake after being awoken at 4 a.m. by our infant son.

In previous years we have celebrated with dinner at a favorite restaurant, an upscale establishment that offers funky comfort foods like macaroni and cheese with lobster.

But this year we just couldn't muster the strength. We might have blown it off entirely except my mother-in-law was to baby-sit junior and we are loath to reject any offer to be childless for a few hours.

Eating at a lesser restaurant, one we might choose on any given night, seemed somehow wrong. And so we pondered, ticking through our mental tally of nearby eateries.

And came up blank.

That's when I became inspired (and if I do say, a bit romantic). We would have a picnic. All the more appropriate since I had proposed to my wife during a picnic at a park not far from where we now live.

But neither of us felt up to cooking, not even preparing simple picnic fare. So we decided to cook nothing.

It was a somewhat radical notion in a house so focused on food. But this day, we wanted to focus on each other and let the food be an accompaniment. So we headed to the grocer and raided the prepared foods aisles.

If we were going to relax and enjoy ourselves, this meal had to be completely fuss-free. We wanted finger foods that were not messy and were best eaten cool or at room temperature.

It was easier than we expected.

We started with a bunch of seedless red grapes, then grabbed a loaf of organic rosemary focaccia. Then a wedge of soft Port-Salut cheese, a dozen stuffed grape leaves, a bag of fancy potato chips, a tub of ranch dip, a banana cream pie and - of course - a bottle of red wine.

We were pleased with our purchases. Foods we love. Foods that are easy to eat. Foods that oozed comfort. Foods that even suggested a bit of romance.

And since I am such a romantic, I dug out the picnic blanket, wicker basket and wine glasses we'd used back when I proposed. A few paper plates and plastic cutlery and we were ready.

It was perfect. The weather was mid-70s. The sky was clear and blue. Other couples, splayed on their own picnic blankets at discreet distances, enjoyed their own evening in the park.

We sat for several hours, eating, drinking and talking. No restaurant pressures of dressing up, fighting for parking, trying to ignore the boisterous neighboring table, hoping the food lives up to last time. No slaving over a stove all day, or worrying whether the cake will rise or the vegetables will burn.

It was just about us.

After, I thought some more about how perfect a meal it had been. The food was key. Nothing spectacular, nothing unusual, just good, easy food that did what it should: It brought us together.

So this week, there is no recipe. Make the focus of your next meal those you love. The food - whatever it is, wherever it is from - will taste sublime.