Pan bagna or banh mi sandwiches are picnic stars

Dear Lynne: Can you give me some ideas for food to take on a picnic? I'm romancing a man who loves to eat and I really want to make an impression. Any thoughts on something easy to pull off, but interesting?

— Christina from Austin

Dear Christina: You are a wise woman, as there is nothing more romantic than a picnic. And for those looking for their first spring revel, this is about as easy to pull off as it gets.

Nearly any food is portable, of course, though I think we often overlook the obvious — the sandwich. I can't imagine anyone who loves to eat being able to resist France's pan bagna, or Vietnam's banh mi.

Both are sandwiches with a lot of attitude backed by solid irresistibility.

The pan bagna is the mother sandwich of the Provence region of southern France. This is the place (and the sandwich) where those overused adjectives "sun-drenched" and "luscious" really apply.

Pan bagna runs to many versions, but the basic technique is to layer olive-oil-packed tuna, a little minced garlic, anchovies, tomato, cucumber, fresh basil leaves and oil-cured olives into a hollowed-out round roll or on a length of French bread that has been drizzled with good-tasting olive oil. ("Bagna" means "bathed.")

Fold it together, wrap it up in paper or plastic and then squish the entire thing so the flavors marry.

I cover the sandwich with a baking sheet or a plate and throw a few cans on top for weight. When the sandwich has been pressed, cut it into serving sizes and dig in.

Vietnam's banh mi starts with a small French baguette, hollowed out, then spread with a mix of mayonnaise and chili paste and layered with thinly sliced pork of some sort — roasted, barbecued, pulled or even little cooked meatballs — along with shredded carrots and daikon radish (ideally pickled with sugar, vinegar and a little fish sauce, but not essential), onion, cucumber, fresh cilantro and almost always a slice of liver pate.

Of course, there are thousands of variations for both sandwiches, so make them your own.

If you're considering packing wine as well, Provence makes the best dry roses in the world — roses born to go with pan bagna.

For the banh mi, consider a low-alcohol riesling from the Mosel Valley.

If you want to pull back the wine budget to next-to-nothing for either sandwich, check out the white Portuguese paveo, which I've found for as low as $6 a bottle, or the low-priced dry rieslings from Oregon and Washington. Beer is good with both sandwiches, too.

Recipe: PAN BAGNA (The Tuna Sandwich of the South of France)

Makes 4 servings

1 crusty baguette (16 to 18 inches long)

Good-tasting extra-virgin olive oil

2 can (6-ounce each) olive-oil-packed tuna

1 clove garlic, minced

1 large tomato, thinly sliced

1 cucumber, thinly sliced

Canned anchovy fillets to taste (can be rinsed or marinated in lemon juice to make them milder)

Handful oil-cured black olives, pitted (these are the wrinkled olives that don't come packed in brine)

Handful of fresh basil leaves (about 20)

1. Slice the loaf in half lengthwise. Hollow out the bread and drizzle with the olive oil to lightly moisten both pieces. Layer in the remaining ingredients, and wrap in paper or plastic and press the sandwich for an hour by putting a cookie sheet on it and piling cans atop the sheet.

2. To serve, slice the sandwich on an angle into small or large individual sandwiches.

From Lynne Rossetto Kasper