EVERY SUMMER, more picnics are dreamed of than ever get eaten. And with good reason: picnicking – in the familiar sense of basket, blanket, and potato salad in a rustic setting – very often seems to call for more toil, planning, and preparation than most of us are willing to invest. But it doesn't have to be that way. Picnics are best when they're simple, spur-of-the-moment things, and if that means taking liberties with tradition, all the better; it's summer. And the picnic is the one pleasure of the season that embraces all the others: you're outside, you're rolling on a blanket, and you're eating something good. Equipped with any of the suggestions below (some more loosely interpreting the word than others; all as easy as they are enjoyable, along with a strong conviction that picnicking is a freestyle event, you can truly exploit every out-of-doors meal opportunity to the fullest.

The amorous picnic

There's something so wholesome about picnicking, which makes it the perfect vehicle for seduction: while you relax on a blanket, praising the beauties of nature, the object of your desire slowly begins to think you're somehow responsible for the warmth of the sun and the wine, falling helpless before your fascinations by early evening. Of course, much depends on the right natural surroundings, and you can't do better – without going farther – than a picnic on Angel Island. Begin at the Ferry Building (Market and Embarcadero), where you can fill your basket with wine, bread, cheese, and chocolate at the new shops inside; on the right day you can even make your selection from the tasty, fresh produce at the new farmer's market. And from there it's just a short ferry ride (Blue and Gold Fleet, Pier 41, S.F. $12 round trip. 415-705-555, www.blueandgoldfleet.com) to picnic paradise. The island itself will do a lot of your wooing; what little else remains is up to you.

The power picnic

You think picnics are for people who have nothing better to do than loaf around all summer, and you can't possibly make time for one with your busy, momentous job. However, you're wrong. What you need is the executive, or power, picnic. The first requirement, and I mean requirement, is to stop on your way downtown at Wrap Delight Vietnamese Delicious Sandwiches in the Civic Center (426 Larkin, S.F. 415-771-3388). You'll instantly see why: the chicken and pork sandwich, for example, stuffed with grated carrot and cilantro, is only $2.25, it's sublime, and if you think there exists a better sandwich for any amount of money, then, frankly, you're living a lie. Next, make for the Mechanics Monument, that little plaza, at the confluence of Market, Bush, and Battery, with a statue of five muscular male bodies who are, for some reason, operating an industrial punch press in the nude. Alternatively, take advantage of the glorious neoclassical Citicorp Courtyard at Market, Sansome, and Sutter, where café tables and chairs are open to the public. (Not a picnic in the strictest sense, but you're exposed to the elements – what more do you need?)

The group picnic

This next one can easily become a monster, but for some people, a massive, rampant, greedy, inebriated monster of a picnic is precisely what summer is about. For that you will need latitude, and Cesar Chavez Park in the Berkeley Marina (west of the I-80 exit at University, Berk. 510-644-8623), open daily, dawn to dusk, will give it to you. Dogs adore the hills, children adore the Portajohns; those with energy can take the trails; those with ennui can watch the kites – there's something for everyone. N.B.: the breeze will wreak havoc on a tossed salad, so a hefty barbecue is the favored food. Fortunately, nearby Everett and Jones BBQ #2 (1955 San Pablo, Berk. 510-548-8261) and KC's Bar-B-Que (2613 San Pablo, Berk. 510-548-1140) are there to oblige.

Picnic for one

Then again, you have every right to picnic by yourself. It really isn't the exercise in grim self-pity you might think, provided you know where to go: for example, on the corner of Sanchez and 21st Streets, in Dolores Heights, there is a small wood-carved seat that's just large enough to make you comfortable and just small enough to ward off uninvited company. There you can survey the city from your throne and more or less hide away from everyone. This kind of solo effort is best conducted with the help of two small pies, one savory, one sweet, both to be found at Peasant Pies (4108 24th St., S.F. 415-642-1316, www.peasantpies.com) a few blocks below.