oobie, afternoon tea is my hobby, some say obsession! I collect vintage Royal Albert china, sterling silver etc, and use it all the time, I invite my girlfriends over in the afternoon (3.30 - 4pm), we sit around and drink tea (traditionally black tea with milk, sugar or lemon) but I also serve iced tea, although this is not traditional. I also handmake all the food, scones, cupcakes, petit fours, tea sandwiches etc. I set the table with pretty floral tablecloths and vintage tea napkins (smaller than luncheon or dinner size) and flowers. I will post some photos for you tonight when I am at home.Date: 10/19/2008 8:34:39 PM
Author:oobiecoo
Having never traveled outside of the U.S. (other than Mexico), I''ve never experienced English Tea. I know basically nothing about it... so please enlighten me! What time(s) do you have it? Are there special linens you use or a special place that you drink it? I want to know everything
Wow MishB- Thank you so much for all of the information and pictures! Your table looks beautiful! I have some more questions now:
I eat dinner pretty late so i think I should start having afternoon tea!Date: 10/20/2008 12:36:36 AM
Author: Octavia
There are lots of different ways to do tea. When I was living in England, it was generally as simple as a few of us sitting down in the late afternoon for a chat over a cuppa and biccies (i.e. a cup of tea and chocolate-topped McVities digestive cookies). You can also go fancy, and here are a few links to some varieties of ''high teas'' and ''cream teas'':
Cream Tea at Sally Lunn''s (look at the bottom of the first printed page of the Daytime menu)
Various varieties at the Royal Crescent
Afternoon teas at the Ritz
Of the above, I''ve only eaten at Sally Lunn''s, which was fantastic. I always wanted to do high tea at the Ritz, but I was a student and not flush with cash, so it never happened. Someday, though...
It''s pretty American to eat dinner early, so I think that''s partially why we don''t do teatime. In countries where the evening meal is later, teatime is basically a snack to tide you over until the main meal. In my FI''s home country, this is extremely common and every time we come back after visiting, I really really miss it!!
ETA: I also scandalized my English friends by taking my tea with only milk, no sugar. It was pretty funny that of all my other ''odd American habits,'' that was the thing that bothered them the most.
Often sugar is added to many traditional scone recipes here in the UK. The Devonshire or Cornish cream is also known as clotted cream - a thick lumpy cream with clots in it - sounds horrible but it is wonderful, and is commonly available in supermarkets here. You can use that or whip heavy cream. A popular variation of the traditional scone is the cheese scone. Strong grated cheddar is added to the dry ingredients along with ( preferably IMO) Colemans mustard powder. They are wonderful served warm with butter.
I haven't tried pumpkin scones, I imagine they would be good! Pumpkin doesn't seem to be that popular here, although that could change as more try it. The English clotted cream is unique, the southern area of the UK where it is generally made has excellent grazing for the cattle and a milder climate, the milk yield is good and the fat content is suited for this type of cream. You can also get icecream made with it and if you are in Devon or Cornwall, some ice cream sellers will put a large dollop of clotted cream on the icecream....
The one thing that most tourists feel compelled to do in London is have afternoon tea. To do it right, you have to go to a posh London hotel like the Ritz, pay a ridiculous sum of money, and sit in a lovely drawing room feeling very proud of yourself.
The last time I was here, I was with some friends…some of whom did not have a lot of money to blow. So at that time, the opportunity to have a veddy veddy proper English tea was lost.
Deciding that tea at the Ritz was far too imposing for a commoner like me, I decided to have tea at the equally posh but more inviting Raffles Brown Hotel. I had wanted to make it my “perfect London day” so I started out touring the Westminster Abbey, then went shopping for a suitable shirt for tea (everything I brought was casual). Then it would be tea at Brown’s, followed by an evening play at the West End.
It was with some anticipation I got ready for my formal evening out. I had brought one pair of black slacks with me (purchased after much searching at home). I absentmindedly slipped into my slightly wrinkled pants (slightly wrinkled, and not completely wrinkled because I skipped the stupid trouser press this time!) and blinked a couple of times when I struggled with the zipper.
Perplexed, I looked down and was stunned to discover that I had brought the wrong pants. My smart new cotton slacks where hanging in my closet, while I had brought THESE: my vile, micro-fiber, cheapo pants I wore at tradeshows! The pants I had purchased ages ago at a few pounds slimmer, and were now refusing to zip up all the way!
DAMN IT!
Trying not to be too disappointed by this unforeseen outfit change, I put on my new ultra-suede shirt. I glanced at my reflection on the way out and sighed. I had bought these pants for tradeshows because I wore comfortable flat shoes and these pants didn’t drag on the ground. Unfortunately, now I looked like Noah should have built me an ark because I was flooding in a big way. They looked completely silly with the heeled boots I had bought specifically for this evening.
Still, I made it to the hotel, and tried to be most dignified when I gave the name the reservation was under. “Of course, miss,” the distinguished gentleman said. “Right this way.”
He led me to a warm, yet grand drawing room filled with dark woods and oversized chenille chairs in various shades of burgundy. He pointed out my choices to sit…both tables were in the center of the room, within easy view of the door.
I must have looked a little nervous, because he offered me a third choice: a lovely booth in the corner. I smiled gratefully and told him I would love to sit in the booth, as it was much better for people watching.
“Very good miss,” leaning towards me a little, he said conspiratorially “It’s the seat that Princess Diana would have chosen.”
Feeling a bit like a princess myself, I took a seat in the cozy booth. I took a look around and was impressed with the serving ladies. Well dressed in tidy white shirts and burgundy skirts, they wore sensible hose (nude, as I would imagine they aren’t allowed to wear sexy black hose. Some wore the dreaded “suntan” color that you stop wearing at 12 years old and don’t wear again until you’re 80).
I began to feel a bit out of place. The room was filled with older ladies and gentlemen. To my right was a group of very handsome people. They were chicly dressed…especially the three perfectly coiffed blonde women, with their big diamonds sparkling in the soft light.
I was asked if I would like autumn or afternoon tea. I couldn’t tell much of a difference and was momentarily perplexed as to what to choose, since it happened to be both autumn and afternoon. I settled for afternoon tea. She then asked me what kind of tea I would like.
I glanced down at the tea invitation. I couldn’t pronounce half of them. Feeling dumber by the minute, I said, “Earl Grey, please.” Two words, one syllable each. Rather impossible to screw up.
I watched the lady go to the good-looking group of people to take their tea orders. Eavesdropping, I could tell they were also American. They all ordered afternoon tea over the autumn tea. Then, she started to ask the ladies in the group what tea they chose.
“I’ll have a dar-jling,” one lady said.
“Oh, you will have the dar-jeh-ling?” confirmed the serving lady. She sounded the slightest bit amused.
“Oh, um, yes. The dar-jeh-ling.”
The serving lady turned her attention to the gentlemen. “And you sir?”
“Um….I’ll have what I can pronounce. “Earl Grey.”
“Yeah, me too,” the next gentlemen said “Earl Grey.”
And so they ordered…four Earl Greys and two Darjeelings (now that they knew how to pronounce it). The entire time I listened, I sat with a most gratified smile on my face. It was extremely satisfying to know that I was not the only dolt in the room.
Americans can go into a coffee shop, order a double shot of cappuccino mulatto with frothy foam and a dash of cinnamon, nutmeg, herbs and spices, whipped into a frenzy without batting an eyelash. But when asked the venerable question “one lump, or two?” we turn into blithering idiots. We are hopelessly ignorant about tea. All the glittering diamonds in the world on your fingers won’t change that.
My tea was presented to me in a confounding array of pitchers, jars, strainers, etc. She poured my first cup of tea and left me to fend for myself. Flummoxed, I began to feel uneasy again.
I took the silver tongs and nearly flung the lump across the room as I couldn’t get a grip on the sugar. Looking uneasily for the cream, I spotted a smaller pitcher with a closed lid on the far end of the table and tried to peer down the spout to determine its contents. I slowly tipped it over my tea and retreated abruptly when something that looked suspiciously like hot water appeared. Feeling rather dejected, I spied the cream….right next to my cup.
I may be seated where Princess Diana would have sat, but I highly doubted she would have dumped hot water into her tea when the cream was right under her nose!
I had my glasses on, so I could observe the room better. As I took the first sip of my tea, I realized that my glasses were slipping off my nose. I had started to perspire from my nervousness!
The glasses started to fog up, and I couldn’t really see anything in front of me, much less the rest of the room. Forced to take off my glasses, I felt my body temperature start to rise to uncomfortable levels.
You see, both ultrasuede and microfiber are forms of polyester. That might not mean anything to you, but when you are in a room and start to feel warm, wearing polyester is a problem because it CAN’T BREATHE.
I felt my body growing clammy from perspiration. Seriously afraid I would overheat and blow a gasket, I tried to surreptitiously blow air into my face…and down my shirt! It was as if I was in a sauna…and pouring hot fluids into my body wasn’t helping any.
All of this was going on while people were calmly going about their business of having tea.
It took several minutes and several deep breaths to get the panic and perspiration under control. I guess at this point, you may be wondering why I paid around $50 dollars to sit in a fancy room and torture myself.
Don’t think I wasn’t asking myself the same question. I don’t really get tea (as you can plain see) and a lot of British folk don’t understand why American people pay wads of cash to sit and pretend to be fancy. For your $50 all you really get is the equivalent of two sandwiches with the crusts cut off, a pot of tea, a small glass of champagne, and a few scones the size of a ping pong ball.
But as I sat in the room, my body (now) at a comfortable temperature with a delightful assortment of cakes and cookies in front of me, I was content. Having tea in a posh hotel lets you get away from the craziness of London. I leaned back in my booth and listened to the melody drifting from the piano, and realized that $50 wasn’t a bad price to pay for a few hours of good people watching, fantastic tea, a few moments of severe discomfort, and the right to pretend to be fancy.
Octavia come to Ireland, that''s how I take my tea! It''s not in the least bit scandalous hereDate: 10/20/2008 12:36:36 AM
Author: Octavia
ETA: I also scandalized my English friends by taking my tea with only milk, no sugar. It was pretty funny that of all my other ''odd American habits,'' that was the thing that bothered them the most.
300x240.png)
