It’s Thanksgiving weekend, so it feels apt to talk about food. I’ve lived alone for over a decade—during which time I’ve been solely responsible for the planning, cooking, and cleanup of nearly all my meals1—so I value simplicity in the kitchen. Fewer dishes that get dirty during the preparation and eating stages mean fewer dishes I have to wash each evening when I’d rather be curled up on the couch. I love eating food, but the accompanying chores can be quite tiresome.
This preference towards easy meals is amplified on camping trips. Rather than bringing a Coleman camp stove, like my family did on my childhood trips, I pack a 3.3 oz. backpacking stove. My cooler is just large enough for some beer and cheese—no room for a stockpile of bacon and eggs that could become a hearty breakfast.
When it’s cold outside, I default to my homemade(ish) backpacking meals that only require about 300 mL of boiling water—ramen mac with freeze dried veggies or Skurka beans topped with fried jalapeño pieces. If I’m having a campfire, I might warm a couple (pre-cooked) cheddar brats over the flames and then end the night with s’mores. The rest of the time, I’m probably eating camp charcuterie.
Unlike a charcuterie board you might assemble for a party, camp charcuterie doesn’t try to be visually appealing. This is a meal of convenience. Honestly, most of the time I don’t even plan to make it, the charcuterie just…happens.
Step one is to go on a long hike so that you come back to your campsite completely exhausted and uninterested in any culinary pursuits. Step two is to raid your cooler for summer sausage and cheese. If you’re really tired, you can stop here and just eat alternating slices until you are full. (An underrated benefit of solo camping is that no one is nearby to judge you for making this decision.)
If you are less tired or have a more discerning palate, the next step is to find crackers, chips, and/or bread amongst your packed groceries. While you’re rooting around, you will probably find some garnishes: a jar of jam you brought to make PB&J sandwiches, the dried fruit meant to accompany your morning oatmeal, a few apples you planned as a healthy mid-hike snack (and which you have been studiously avoiding in favor of gummy fruit snacks), a bag of trail mix2. Congratulations, you now have all the components you need for a balanced dinner!3
Am I occasionally envious of the wafting smells from nearby campsites when my neighbors are grilling over their fires? Sure! Do I want to take on the added chores that an involved meal would require? Absolutely not. My ad hoc charcuterie boards aren’t winning any culinary awards, but nothing tastes better than a night off from washing dishes.
I joke that my favorite part of Ice Age Trail Crew projects is that I get four consecutive nights off from cooking dinner! It’s so wonderful to come back to base camp after a day of trailwork and be greeted with snacks and a cooler full of beer, followed by a hot meal and a roaring campfire.
I adamantly believe that the best trail mix is just a bag of peanut M&Ms.
Zero doctors or nutritionists have approved this statement.
When I'm backpacking I'm so lazy that I eat the same lunch every day. My buddies are all about variety. Not me. We eat dinner as a group, but pack our own food otherwise. I eat jerky (preferably Trader Joe's), two individually wrapped cheeses, and two fruit strips. My breakfast is oatmeal. I vary the kind.
Peanut m&m's are a valid gorp choice. I also pack a salty mix of potato stix and Fritos--very high calorie-weight ratio.