In or out? This is a question any opera lover must address as the season for festivals at country houses comes round again. No, not a question about bitters in the pink gin (who drinks that these days?); I refer to the matter of where supper is enjoyed in the long interval, which for some people, I know and some people I know is the sole reason for being there. Do you take the most comfortable option and book into the on-site restaurant? Or do you picnic in the open air, if possible, or in one of the large tents usually provided as a shield against the weather?

On this year's first outing, to Grange Park's production of Massenet's Thas, I took the first option and enjoyed supper with colleague Giles Woodforde in the decayed splendour of this once-great country house. Anthony Lane, whose catering company is based in Great Barrington, near Burford, runs a most efficient operation there. I enjoyed his potted smoked mackerel, roasted fillet of salmon with lemon and dill sauce, and summer fruits in champagne jelly.

Last Saturday, on the opening night of Garsington Opera's season, Rosemarie and I decided to picnic. Besides the obvious do-it-yourself arrangement, I could have ordered picnics for collection on arrival either from Fortnum and Mason the pioneer company, as they say in their publicity material, to offer pre-prepared 'food to go' or the caterers Maby's who also run the restaurant in the manor's Great Barn, where I have enjoyed fine meals in the past.

It seemed to me, though, with this article in mind, that a broader range of readers might be interested in hearing about what is on offer from the picnic service operated at branches of Carluccio's. A press release advertising their wares arrived as I was thinking about the opera trip. Breaking this column's usual rules about anonymous pay-our-own-way testing, I expressed an interest in seeing one or, rather, eating one for myself, and Carluccio's public relations company arranged for me to be given a hamper at the new Oxford Castle branch on Saturday afternoon.

Cycling to collect it at 3pm, I thought the town seemed curiously quiet. Only later did I discover that a new series of Noel Edmonds's quiz show has just started on TV. I find this almost as boring as football, about which we seem to be hearing very little at the moment. Carluccio's cheery general manager Joe Mair possibly is a football fan, for he employed a metaphor from the sport "own goal" while he was helping to load my bicycle. No doubt he's eagerly waiting for the season to roll around again . . .

Rosemarie and I were delivered to Garsington by taxi, thereby permitting my indulgence in the bottle of Arpeggio Sicilian red the hamper contained. The "pleasantly lingering finish" advertised on the bottle suggested a somewhat befuddled terminal event, but the spicy wine proved an ideal accompaniment to the food.

Another one of those, in my experience, is a plate to eat it off. Carluccio's hampers do not contain any. The idea, I suppose, is that you tackle the many little pots of things with the plastic cutlery you're given. This is not my style especially at Garsington where picnicking is at its most pucka, apart possibly from Glyndebourne. Expect linen and candelabra by the lake. To keep our end up, we thought we had better take proper cutlery, and a bottle of champagne a seriously good Pol Roger.

When feeding time came, I was delighted to find myself once more on the other side of a table from the estimable Mr Woodforde, who was accompanied this time by his wife Rachel. They had smoked salmon sandwiches of their own, but took a keen interest in seeing (and in a couple of cases sampling) what we had. Rachel found the Sicilian caponata (a sweetish stew of aubergines, with olives, tomatoes, pine nuts and much else besides) especially toothsome. We had, in fact, been given two tubs of this, presumably in error, so we could allow her to tuck in.

Though this was the least lavish of the three Carluccio's picnics the £30 job, rather than one of the £40 or £50 ones it contained a splendid range of dishes (but only a smallish piece of focaccia take your own bread as we did). We first ate the four perfectly cooked (slightly hard) giant sticks of asparagus with lemon and garlic mayonnaise, followed by three salads: buffalo mozzarella, tomato and black olives; a Sardinian salad of tiny cubes of pasta and peccorino cheese, capers, red onions and yellow peppers; and baby gem lettuce with cheery tomato, red onion and vinaigrette (in a separate tub).

Next we each had skewers of grilled marinated chicken, layered with mushrooms (could a Carluccio meal be complete without them?), yellow peppers and courgette, and marinated green beans with mint and garlic.

The meal ended with a fruit salad containing pineapple, orange, kiwi fruit, melon and apple (this was a special treat for me because I didn't want the raspberry jelly usually supplied) and a splendid chunk of pongy Taleggio cheese which was so ripe that we had to stand back as the lid came off the pot.

Speaking of pots, we found ourselves plentifully supplied with these, courtesy of the Carluccio's hamper. Thoroughly washed and the labels picked off, these proved ideal when next we picnicked in the rain this time at Garsington on Tuesday. They looked so much better than the Vitalite margarine containers of old that always embarrassed me as they appeared from our Royal Garden Party (regulation issue) wicker hamper. We are now equipped for the rest of the opera season, which continues with Longborough's Rigoletto tonight.