Hotspots for great alfresco dining

DAVID SEXTON
KENSINGTON GARDENS
A picnic should be a sexy meal or it's nothing. So two is a good number and you don't want masses of food or elaborate kit. That's an expedition, not a picnic. A quick dash into M& s should do it - a cold bottle of their almondy st romain, some seafoody stuff - crab, prawns even - some crusty bread and fruit and you're away. Think punctuated drink, not fill-the-tank refuelling.

LIZ HOGGARD
REGENT'S PARK THEATRE
The grim reality of being a theatre fan is you starve on peanuts and terrible red wine. And go home with a migraine. But the joy of Regent's Park open-air theatre is you can bring your own picnic. It's a bit like channelling your inner eight-year-old. there's a picnic lawn or you can choose a spot outside the theatre grounds and pitch camp in Regent's Park.

Friends arrive clanking with bottles and hampers full of hand-baked delights - or if you're me, ready meals from M&s - and part of the fun is guessing who cooked what. Men are the biggest Nigellas. I've lost count of the recipes for quiche and cupcakes I've been called on to admire. Though even kitchen-phobes can bring a nice rug or funky habitat plates.

I've been on indian picnics, Jewish picnics, a Withnail party and one terrible blue food disaster (best keep creativity to the stage). Performances start at 8pm, which means time for a civilised meal. Though I'd recommend finger food - prawns, stuffed vine leaves, dips and breads - just in case you have to pack up hurriedly for Act One. Drinks are allowed in the auditorium but there's no eating. There are a few basic rules for the great thesp picnic. No complicated spaghetti dishes or fondues. And make sure you're wearing a sensible top. With all that leaning over, you can't afford eye-watering cleavage.

CHARLOTTE ROSS
BOX HILL
My Jane-Austenesque friend imagined it a good idea to travel by car to Box hill, the spot where Emma famously hiked one Sunday. The surrey area now sits decidedly in the commuter belt, but it's still prettily wooded, with steeply sloping fields dotted with ponies and swathed in lush green grass - perfect for spreading out a blanket and whiling away the day. That's exactly what numerous families were already doing; it's no surprise Box hill is a favourite egg-rolling venue at easter. I'd like to say I'm laid back about these things, but in fact I'm an ambitious picnicer, so I'd been to the farmer's market that morning for seasonal provisions, roasted a chicken and made salads and soup. There were freshly cooked spanish omelettes - goat's cheese and herbs, pepper and chorizo - plus sourdough sandwiches; the bread's substantial enough to travel ready filled with chicken, mayonnaise and watercress. A bottle of fizz and a punnet of peaches was all it took to turn the day into a civilised party. For all except the designated driver.

SOPHIA MONEY-COUTTS
THE SOUTH BANK
Forget old-school picnics that necessitate knives, forks and irredeemably naff mini salt and pepper shakers. The urban picnic is what summer eating in the city is all about. No itchy grass, fewer wasps and there's no cumbersome hamper to lug about. Mine begins on a Saturday morning at Borough Market. Chorizo burgers, vegetable crisps and a couple of smoothies are the basic ingredients; a hunk of manchego cheese from Brindisa if feeling wild. From there, fight your way through the crowds to the South Bank. There are plenty of benches to perch on and look out over the Thames and a multitude of live acts to watch. The budgieman outside Tate Modern will keep small (and big) children enthralled with his hopping birds, mime artists and street dancers dot the way right down to the London Eye, and the National Theatre's Watch This Space summer performances are back again, this year complete with a giant sofa and armchair for spectators to sit and eat from. Chuck away all your rubbish at the end and buy a Mr Whippy ice cream for pudding. Concrete has never looked so inviting.

RICHARD GODWIN
KENWOOD HOUSE
After an absence of a year - during which residents' concerns over sound levels were dealt with - the Kenwood Summer Picnic concerts are back this summer. It is a victory for delightfulness.

As any regular knows, the thing about Kenwood is it's not really about the music, though this summer the music is the best it's ever been, with Rufus Wainwright and Buena Vista legend Omara Portuondo down and Van Morrison and Diana Krall still to come (previous years have been wallto-wall Ronan Keating and Grease spectaculars).

The main point is assembling a splendid picnic, gathering a group of friends in the grounds of this splendid English Heritage site and losing all pretence of being edgy or cool. (Though if you do want to preserve a bit of cred, you can always join the rebel faction of non-ticket buyers on the prow of the hill and have a picnic anyway, for free.) Carluccios provide picnics for those who don't wish to be encumbered.

When Brian Wilson opened the season, seven of us lounged around like Roman emperors consuming the wares of four separate hampers - overestimating the amount of food you will need is de rigueur. Important decisions had to be made: can a man have too much prosciutto? Does homemade potato salad trump coronation chicken? Should I consume this piece of mozzarella - or will it waste space required for this remarkable quiche?