photo credit: Mark Geil
I confess, I find it difficult to comprehend the mindset which relegates the consumption of hot tea to cold weather. Call it an addiction, but I down my daily quota year-round, whether, like today, I’m cozy by the fire with flurries flying outside, or dewy-faced on the front porch in the middle of July. My European friends assure me I’m not alone, and that the drinking of hot beverages on a sweltering day actually helps your body work harder to cool itself off (or something like that). But the fact is, afternoon tea is a civility I’m just not willing to dispense with, whatever the calendar says.
I won’t attempt to deny the exquisite comfort of tea in the bleak midwinter, however. There are few pleasures equal to that of wrapping your hands around a warm cuppa on a cold day. And while I drink tea out of habit (brewed in my Brown Betty pot and sipped from a Blue Willow teacup, bien sûr!), it does not in the least diminish my sense of connection to a ritual I value, not only for its social uses, but its historical tradition.
My friends and I treat the taking of tea together with great solemnity, employing good china and linen napkins for our regular gatherings, and on occasions of state, I will even crack out the exquisite Regency-era tea set I bought in England. (“This is for when the vicar comes to call,” the seller told me as he wrapped it in about a thousand layers of newspaper.) That tea set is one of my treasures, not only for the memories associated with it (even the parking ticket we got in Mayfair while we were attempting to ship it home is colored with a haze of fondness), but for the way it makes a moment feel like part of a long and interesting story. I never take up one of those delicate cups that I don’t sit a little straighter in my chair, measure my words a bit more carefully. One doesn’t talk twaddle, or leave sentences to languish unfinished over such a tea cup. I love the deep saucers, proportioned for sipping, and the impenetrable richness of cobalt blue fired under its glaze. I love the massive sugar bowl, rivaling even the furbelowed tea pot, and the fact that the slop bowl is every bit as beautiful as the rest of the set. But best of all, I love the fact that such art was created in the name of a quotidian ritual. While there’s little doubt in my mind that the Regency lady who first sipped tea from this set with her friends was probably not the one doing the washing up afterwards, there’s every reason to suppose—from the long and loving romance of the British with their tea—that this set was in constant use. (However did it come down to me intact? My Regency lady must have had a pearl of a scullery maid!) In an era of Styrofoam and Starbucks, it is extraordinary what a little simmering liquid in a bit of bone china can do to soothe the soul back into all that is yet lovely and gentle and gracious about life.This is not to deny the charm of mismatched cups and a sturdy, workaday pot, however. That’s just the beauty of tea: it can be as formal or as casual as one desires; the impromptu get-togethers at my kitchen table are just as dear in their own right as the planned gatherings in which that formidable Regency set presides. Tea is the beverage of conversation, and, as such, the only really necessary requirements for a “proper tea” are devoted time and someone to share it with. Of course, one may have a technically proper tea in solitude (as opposed to what Winnie-the-Pooh calls a “Very Nearly Tea,” which, as we all know, “is one you forget about afterwards”), but it’s missing something of the lustre of the original tradition.
And to honor that tradition, it is my joy to be sharing over at the Art House America blog today on the infinite pleasures of afternoon tea:
To take tea is to receive something; it is a gift of mindfulness, gentleness and grace. To partake in company is to merge with a great tradition of civilized communion which has its version in nearly every culture on earth…
Click here to read on–I would so love for you to join me there in celebration of this most esteemed beverage!
And I will be back tomorrow with a couple of my favorite teatime recipes, in addition to announcing the winner of the drawing for The Lifegiving Home.