Early in our long courtship, my husband and I frequently stowed the dogs and a few supplies in the back of the van and headed out for a picnic. Sometimes, with a destination in mind–one where we could savor both food and place–we would bring leashes to corral the dogs and load totes and coolers with blankets, wine glasses, and an elaborately conceived meal. Other times, desperate for a change of scenery, we’d hop in the vehicle with nothing but a bottle of red wine. We’d meander the back roads, the dogs’ noses pointed towards the front, all of us eager for unexpected adventure. We’d pick an impromptu picnic spot, sharing pepperoni sticks and peanuts picked up at a country store and sipping the wine from plastic cups.

Careers and other adult responsibilities eventually curtailed such outings. But when we finally married, we planned a French honeymoon–a slow winding drive through the countryside, broken by a daily picnic. If we slept in a tent and ate only one meal a day in a restaurant, we could prolong our travels for five weeks, so when we arrived we bought a cooler and dishes and arranged the backseat of our cramped rental car as a pantry. We stocked it with red wines, mustard, salt, cheeses, and hard sausage, stopping at produce stands for radishes and tomatoes; charcuteries for pate, salads, and pickles; and bakeries for bread and pastries. The weather was unusually hot, and when we did visit restaurants, we noticed everyone was drinking pink wines from frosty copper pitchers, sweaty with condensation. Ordering the same, we discovered rose–dry, crisp, lively, with some of the fruit and heft of red wine, but so much more refreshing in the summer heat. We converted instantly and kept the habit when we returned home.

Naturally, when our first anniversary rolled around, we decided to celebrate with a picnic–a canoe ride on the Huron River, interrupted midway by a late lunch under the trees. I chilled a special bottle of Bandol rose, baked a small cake, made a salad or two, and roasted a chicken that cooled as we drove to the livery. The day was perfect, and the picnic as memorable as any we had in France.

Nineteen years have passed since that alfresco meal, and how better can we mark twenty years of marriage than with another picnic? This time, though, I want to celebrate by not making the meal–or at least not all of it. But I do want a rose, so I head over to Morgan & York on Packard. A recent renovation has made the store a nearly perfect spot for one-stop picnic shopping. An expanded food and coffee counter has been pulled to center stage, with lots of sunny seating before big new windows. Sleek metal wall racks now display the wines, and beer and liquor have been pushed back, with groceries intermingling. New lighting, paint, and flooring brighten the entire space.

Bandol wines have become pretty expensive, so I pick up a bottle of Domaine des Cassagnoles from Gascony, a fresh and lively rose made with Cabernet Sauvignon grapes–and head over to the new front counter. An overhead menu lists a long series of bocatas–European-style (meaning not overstuffed) baguette sandwiches–along with a few soups and salads. The inventory also includes single-serving cheese or cheese and charcuterie plates, but instead of paying $10 for two ounces each of salami and cheese and a bit of garnish, I might opt for a hunk or two from the adjoining deli coolers.

For our picnic, though, I’m concentrating on the bocatas. I find the meat loaf and mostarda sandwich (pork pate and candied fruit in a mustard sauce) too sweet, though I know others who enjoy it. The roast beef and taleggio, with red onion to cut the richness, is perfect when you’re feeling less adventurous. The Alsatian Reuben sounds scrumptious, but the advertised garlic sausage, from a small family producer, has been sold out for some time, and I’m not interested in the corned beef or pastrami alternates. Though they’re tasty, I’m also not interested in the Caprese or other vegetarian options. Instead, I go for my favorites–the Tasso, beet, and arugula, a delicious pairing of spicy, smoky Cajun ham with pickled beets, mustard, and greens; and the bresaola, artichoke, and fontina, a wonderful combination of cured beef, marinated hearts, and creamy cheese.

The elegant, finely made salads Morgan & York offers are inventive and beautiful, but almost too fragile to lug on a picnic. If you’re eating in, however, the shaved raw asparagus salad with coppa or bresaola and Parmigiano is stunning, and the clementine with arugula, fennel, cashews, and crystallized ginger is a surprisingly wonderful combination of flavors. While they make my sandwiches, I wander the store and add some sturdy McTavish shortbread cookies and chocolates by Abdallah, along with marcona almonds, to my pile.

Soon I’m on my way, and thinking I need a robust side or two to go with my sandwiches, I stop, for the first time, at the new Lucky’s Market, nearby on South Industrial. Besides many of the same organic lines already carried by Whole Foods, Plum Market, and Arbor Farms, Lucky’s has an incredible array of bulk candies. If gummy bears and licorice are on your list of picnic foods, you’ll appreciate the variety. I’m more interested in checking out the ready-made food options, so I peruse the long deli counter. Neither of the two that I sample–the “crackling cauliflower” side, overly doused with curry powder, and the artichoke-fennel-edamame salad, unseasoned and undressed–impresses me. But buttery strawberry-rhubarb hand pies wink at me invitingly from the bakery, and I tuck a couple into my basket, along with a bottle of Mazal des Garrigues rose, full-bodied and inexpensive.

Finally, I head home, still bereft of any sides. This is a picnic too elegant for chips or sloppy potato salad, so I head out to the garden and pick the last of the asparagus. I pull some radishes and check the peas to find a few sugar snaps ready. Back in the kitchen, a stalk of rhubarb and a couple sprigs of mint, both sliced paper thin and tossed with leftover roasted beets in a sweet-and-sour vinaigrette, become the first salad. Leaving the asparagus and peas whole, I briefly pan-braise them with lemon zest, capers, and spring onions and then add a few dollops of ricotta and a sprinkling of tarragon. Clean radishes, along with the almonds, will be our hors d’oeuvres.

We wrap real dishes and glasses in towels we can use as napkins, pack our picnic in a cooler, throw a blanket on top, and load everything in the car for a quick trip to the peony garden at Nichols Arboretum. It’s past peak bloom, and we’ve different dogs in tow, but the light shines in green fingers across the field, a breeze lifts the flowers, and the air smells of grass and honey and warm earth. We toast the twenty years prior but mostly we drink in the moment, our fingers crossed that our future holds more roses to sip, picnics to relish, and dogs to adore.

Morgan & York

1928 Packard

662-0798

Mon.-Sat. 7:30 a.m.-9 p.m., Sun. 10 a.m.-5 p.m.

Sandwiches $9.50-$14, salads $4-$8

Lucky’s Market

1919 South Industrial

368-9137

Daily 7 a.m.-10 p.m.