It may be that we've had our summer (seven sunny days in a row?

Mustn't be greedy) but taking the optimistic view that the sun will pop back for a visit between now and September, the season for cooking and eating al fresco is only just beginning.

Camping in Scotland is more popular now than at any time in the past decade, so for lots of us outdoor dining this summer will mean campfire cooking.

When campfire meals go right, they are enchanting. The scent of woodsmoke, the fiery shards of light from the sinking sun bathing everything in a golden glow, the lukewam G&T garnished with swimming midgies: that's my idea of perfection (I fish out the midgies). Unfortunately, however, camping food is sometimes memorable for the wrong reasons. Tinned ravioli and baked beans have their place (and are especially good, I can exclusively reveal, on singed slices of French brioche, eaten in the car while rain hammers on the roof), but there's not much pleasure to be had from opening a tin night after night.

Nor is classic campfire food the healthiest of fare. Sausages, bacon and burgers are easy to cook over a fire or on a camping stove, but don't make for a balanced diet. No harm in that from time to time, but as foodie Annie Bell makes clear in her guide The Camping Cookbook, it doesn't have to be like that. It's not obligatory to eat freeze-dried astronaut food and sausages just because you're camping. Having a car makes it easier to carry ingredients, but you don't need much to have the makings of a good meal.

Whether you are on a highland campsite, a beach or in your own back garden, cooking simple things from scratch can transform the experience of outdoor eating.

Being rather attached to my brioche-and-ravioli speciality, I wasn't entirely convinced about this until I gave Bell's recipe for tumbet a try. This Majorcan vegetable stew has the essential feature of all good campfire meals (and all good meals made on the cooker, if you ask me): you make it in one pot by shoving all the ingredients in together, in this case oil, chunks of onions, courgette, aubergine, beef tomato, potato and peppers. Add some chopped garlic and parsley, half a mug of white wine and some seasoning, and you just sit back and let the campfire work its magic.

Now, on paper, that doesn't sound like much, does it? The thing about campfire food, however, is that it tastes better than stuff you make in your kitchen. Don't ask me how, it just does. So when after watching the mixture bubble and boil and the veg collapse into tender chunks of loveliness, I finally tasted this unpromising mixture, I was completely wowed. Gorgeous. I could actually taste the fire (or was that ashes off the tongs?)

Only certain campsites allow campfires and if you're planning to wild camp, it's wise to stick to a stove for safety. The Scottish Outdoor Access Code states open fires should never be lit during prolonged dry periods, in woods, on farmland, on peaty ground, near buildings or at cultural heritage sites.

Stove or fire, it doesn't really matter, though. The important thing is being outside, because there's nothing that says summer quite like a meal cooked in the open air.

The Camping Cookbook, Annie Bell (Kyle Cathie, £12.99)