“How do you take your tea?” the meme begins. “Seriously. Very seriously” is the reply. That’s me, for sure. I take my tea very seriously. The tea itself, the teapot and serving dishes, the water, clotted cream, lemon curd, enjoying time with friends … these are some of what makes tea so very special to me.
While I enjoy tea every day, there have been some special tea times over the years, and I savor those memories. The first fancy afternoon tea I attended was at the Plaza Hotel in New York City with my husband, over 30 years ago. There have been memorable teas with my daughter, including one I created the day we adopted her and a Mother’s Day tea at a local shop with a surly waitress. There was a special tea at the Peninsula in Chicago to celebrate my 60th birthday. And just as memorable have been the teas spent in our home, gathered with friends, where I’ve made scones and tea sandwiches and all manner of yummy sweets, often drawing from my herb garden.
I’ve been watching some British television shows of late, and the Brits seem to pause for a cup of tea, no matter what the calamity. “Can I put the kettle on?” they ask. They seem to epitomize the saying “sometimes all you need is a good cup of tea.” I couldn’t agree more. Teatime is a calming time, a chance to pause and relax. It can be a reflective and prayerful time too. In our busy world turned topsy turvy with the pandemic, doesn’t that sound divine?
Mother’s Day—this coming Sunday, May 8—is a great time to enjoy tea. It could be a make-believe tea with your favorite four-year-old and her stuffed animals. It could be a lovely high tea with a mentor or special woman in your life. It could be a simple cream tea for two. You could also observe the day with a tea-for-one.
Just a few simple things will make your teatime special. After all, what’s really special is spending time with a friend or relative. May I suggest what the Brits call a cream tea? It’s simply tea and scones.
Start with the tea. I prefer loose black tea, the stronger the better. You pick what you like. Teabags are acceptable, and you can enjoy an herbal blend or tisane instead of black tea. A tea merchant I know is fond of saying tea is the most affordable luxury, and he’s right. So, I wouldn’t scrimp when it comes to selecting a good tea. At a tea shop, you can purchase as little as 2 ounces of a high-quality tea for a few dollars. You’ll notice the difference between that and what you can buy at a grocery store.
The other part of a cream tea is scones. Many grocery stores and specialty shops have scone mixes. Local bakeries often offer scones. You can make your own; they really aren’t very difficult at all. Enjoy with some clotted cream, lemon curd, jam, or preserves. I’m happy to share my favorite scone recipe.
A more formal tea, or the kind of afternoon tea you might experience in a fine hotel, will include, in addition to tea and scones, some finger sandwiches and some fancy sweets.
If pulling together an at-home tea is more than you can manage, and depending on where you live, you might find a “tea-to-go” option. Some tea shops and high-end restaurants began “tea-to-go” during the pandemic and continue with them today. Go that route and you have a ready-made tea party!
Whatever your teatime, enjoy the calming pause that it generates. Enjoy the time talking with your tea companion. Offer up a prayer of thanksgiving for the time spent together.
Linda Post Bushkofsky serves as executive director.
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Here are two poems I wrote about tea.
The Tao of Tea: a Memoir
by Jill Jennings
Tea, green, white, black, Ceylon, orange
pekoe, the names are as colorful
as the flowers painted on my teacups.
I love tea so much that I have my own
tea ceremony every day. Attendance, one.
But for most people across the world
tea is a communal event.
an essential part of a wedding celebration,
an element of a business negotiation,
a prelude to international détente,
a way to honor one’s parents or
a special guest. Tea is always there.
The other day my Chinese mother-in-law
brought me a cup of tea, the kind
with the lid on top, smiled, and set
it down beside me. Later that day
my husband, seeing the empty cup
asked: was this your cup?
Yes, your Mom brought me my tea
this morning I said.
My mother? Brought you tea?
He was astounded.
I wondered if it has anything to do
with a tradition of someone of the Asian races
waiting on someone who looks English.
But no, I’m told, that’s not it.
In our culture, an older person never
brings a younger person a cup of tea.
So I am left asking myself why I
was the recipient of this honorific.
At the time, I did not question her.
I did not want to risk putting her
on the defensive, offending
her by questioning her kind act.
Looking back now, years later,
I think I understand what she was trying
to tell me, not in words
but in the language of tea.
The Tea Ceremony
by Jill Jennings
Every afternoon I get out my Spode china tea set and hold
my own tea ceremony. I warm the pot, pack the tea ball
with Earl Grey, pour the boiling water over the leaves and wait.
Breathing in the aroma, I bite into a McVitie’s biscuit, catch
the crumbs in my saucer, put the cup down, and all of a sudden
I’m back in the United Kingdom. I’m not sure exactly which
city, but it can’t be too far away from my people, wherever they
come from.
Eighty percent of my DNA comes from the inhabitants
of the U.K. The other twenty percent ? From the countries across
the English Channel, the ones that speak French. Probably Brits who
went on vacation, I surmise. Or French who came to England
and never left. They are all my people.
I am a member of the British Empire, you know. The Queen
is on my passport. I drink tea the way the Americans gulp down
coffee– all day long and in between meals. This Empire
I belong to is so big, so far reaching that there are places perfect
for producing tea leaves: Ceylon, Burma, Singapore, Malaysia,
all members of the Commonwealth. All my country.
I gaze at my reflection in the orange disc inside the cup.
The aroma of bergamot sends me across the oceans straight
to the tea fields of India, the fields where Taylor’s of Harrogate
has produced this strain of tea since Queen Victoria’s days
The telephone rings. The voice who answers it
sounds a bit like the presenter on BBC America.
Then I recognize it as my own. Even though I am
home alone.
But I am not alone. I am linked to every citizen
of all the countries in the Empire. All those who picked tea
through the centuries are here today with me, young girl
and middle aged ladies having set down their baskets, washed
their faces and put on their best. Today they are crowded
around the wicker tea table on the veranda, shy smiles
all around.
I’m having a spot of tea, a voice like mine announces.
I just got back from the Colonies. Take a seat. I’ll pour.
Lemon or Milk?
Thanks, Jill, for sharing. Tea can indeed inspire as well as calm!