The Picnic Bowl

From the trunks of cars parked bumper to bumper come picnic baskets, grocery bags and ice chests. They’re wheeled or carted off, up the paths at the Hollywood Bowl, in the annual picnic frenzy that will continue until the end of concert season next month.

“It’s like a ritual,” says Judy Osborn, a veteran usher at the Bowl. “Everyone takes such care. They have special dishes and silverware. They have certain delis they go to. They love to sip their champagne as they watch the show.”

It’s all because--as a regular proclaimed on a recent night--”People don’t just picnic here, they dine.”

Certainly Los Angeles has plenty of restaurants with outdoor seating, but the 79-year-old Bowl offers something different. It’s an enchanting setting, surrounded by chaparral-covered hills. It’s historic, by L.A. standards. The temperature is nearly always perfect for an alfresco dinner, and there are no ant parades or messy sand.

And picnickers are welcome to bring alcohol, which distinguishes the Bowl from most other local music venues. (The greatest public nuisance from this policy is the occasional bottle rolling slowly down an aisle mid-concert.)

“We don’t even care what the music is,” said Don Getz of Sherman Oaks, half jokingly, one night as he spooned homemade ceviche out of a colorful, oversized martini glass. “We like the picnic more,” added his wife, Lynne.

Some parties head for one of the 15 picnic areas outside the entrance. Others make a beeline up the hill to a picnic area within the bowl. Some ticket-holders head to their cozy boxes, which, despite being the most expensive seats, are not the most comfortable when it comes to picnicking, especially after the box’s table trays are locked into place.

Plenty of folks camp out on benches or spread blankets along the pathways skirting the Bowl’s perimeter. Nowhere else, except perhaps in yoga class, are so many adults ensconced willingly, and happily, on the ground.

Because aisles within the Bowl must be clear of bulky picnic paraphernalia by show time, a few minutes before the lights dim, there is another dash--this time down the hill and back to the cars--with empty Tupperware containers and wicker baskets. Despite any inconvenience, Bowl-goers are passionate about picnicking.

“It reminds me of these places in Vienna called heuriger ,” said Andrea Lenardin, a native of Austria who always cooks for the occasion. “They’re basically wineries. But they’re not just for wine. They have picnic tables. This is the only place in L.A. similar to that.”

Lenardin was supping on vegetable quiche, smoked salmon, tomatoes and homegrown onions with family and friends in a woodsy area up high, with a view of the Hollywood Freeway in the distance. “It’s like the Danube,” she said, pointing to the 101.

Nearby, Elizabeth O’Connor, Noreen Keesee and Chuck Johnson were enjoying hearty sandwiches. O’Connor was eating chicken, cheese and pork on wheat bread; Keesee had beef, avocado, spinach, tomato and Swiss cheese in a pita. Johnson was eating whatever the ladies gave him. “I’m the driver,” said the Long Beach resident, “and I love their food.” Sometimes, instead of bringing dinner, the group stops at Tommy’s to pick up burgers.

Many patrons bring take-out from their favorite eateries, such as the Daily Grill, whose oversized green cardboard boxes are ubiquitous here. (The Daily Grill is one of a number of area restaurants that promote picnic menus targeted at Bowl-goers during the summer months.) Other popular take-out choices include the Bistro Garden, Chin Chin, Koo Koo Roo, Subway, El Pollo Loco, Trader Joe’s, Bristol Farms, Ralphs and Gelson’s. The on-premise concession booths and catering, run by the Patina Group, also do a brisk business.

Yet some concert-goers are dedicated cooks. “I’ve never done it any other way,” said Jennifer Turkat, a West L.A. 30-something, before a recent Tuesday night classical performance.

She had prepared green salad, marinated white bean salad, a potato-corn-cheese-jalapeno frittata and grilled tri-tip with ancho chile sauce for herself and three friends. Turkat usually cooks a day or two ahead, deliberating choosing “stuff that improves while it sits” and doesn’t need to be served piping hot or refrigerator cold.

“Creating something you can schlep and still have it look good is part of the fun,” said Judith Locke of Porter Ranch. For a recent Latin jazz concert, Locke made a Latin-inspired meal of chilled avocado soup followed by halved, hollowed-out pineapples filled with spicy barbecued shrimp.

As at many parties, drinks for Bowl picnics are as important as the food. Before one concert, Evelyn Truitt of Del Mar and friend David Nelson were sipping Louis Jadot Pouilly-Fuisse, which they kept chilled in an ornate silver ice bucket.

John Rondash of Los Angeles drank a pale ale he brewed at Brew Works in Hermosa Beach.

Patrick Bailey had set up a makeshift bar in the box he shared with three friends. With his cocktail shaker, vodka and olives, he was the envy of many neighbors. “The first time I came, I brought ice,” said the Altadena resident. “But I learned it was not worth schlepping uphill.” Instead, Bailey shells out $3 for a bucket of ice from the concession stand.

Bowl-goers quickly discover they need to bring a rolling ice chest or invest in a lightweight, rolling insulated cart; they’re easier on the back. Some might argue, though, that the old-fashioned baskets look better. And looks do matter, most agree, particularly in the box seats--the Beverly Hills of the Bowl--where there’s a fair amount of healthy competition and one-upmanship.

Truitt, a Bowl veteran, recalled that hired violinists once played for a box. Even better, she said, was the time a man stood on the side of a box and served from a chafing dish. “He had a towel over his arm and everything.”

More common are the displays of fine linen, fancy crystal and fresh flowers that ticket-holders set up despite the cramped circumstances. Francis Grover, for instance, covered her table with a damask tablecloth, then added cloth napkins and a vase of Lily of the Nile blooms she brought from Long Beach.

At one time there was even more extravagance, when people would trot out heirloom candelabras. But candles are now prohibited at the Bowl, except for a very specific type (with an enclosed flame) approved by the Fire Department.

For dessert, many people bring their favorite cookies, mostly store-bought, or visit the concession stand for ice cream or the much-talked-about fresh popcorn. But some treat dessert with as much reverence as dinner. For instance, John Feder, a graduate student from Laguna Beach, prepared two different creme fraiche toppings for the fresh berries he and his family were enjoying: the first with candied ginger and spices, the second with lime and Grand Marnier.

Serious dessert people save the course. “That’s the rule,” said Mark Meister of Northridge. “You come early and have appetizers and the main course, and dessert at intermission.”

Meister has perfected a way to transport his favorite Hagen-Dazs ice cream. He defrosts a couple of blue ice packs, wraps them around the container, secures them with rubber bands and pops the whole thing in the freezer. The next day, the ice cream is Bowl-ready. After nearly five hours out of the freezer, but still contained in the cold packs, the vanilla ice cream he brought to pair with brownies and lemon bars was “just a little soggy,” he said. Which is really how it’s best.

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The Hollywood Bowl is at 2301 N. Highland Ave., Los Angeles; (323) 850-2000. Its Web site is https://www.hollywoodbowl.com.