Proper English Tea

Last week, we enjoyed a short visit with a young student from England who will be starting her Ph.D. studies in the Classics at Cal Berkeley this fall - turns out, Cal has a world-renowned Classics department. Who knew?

The girlfriend of an old friend's son, Naomi was coming with three gigundous suitcases full of her worldly goods and, although she claimed she could use BART to schlep all those bags from the airport to Berkeley, we were happy to spare her that particular joy by picking her up by car.

We drove her home, fed her roast chicken and poured her into bed, dizzy with jet lag. The next morning, she remembered she had brought us gifts from England, a box of real Scottish shortbread (how did she know it's my favorite?) and a packet of tea from her home in Cambridge.

I warmed my mother's wedding present teapot and Naomi showed me how to make proper English tea for breakfast. She filled my tea ball nearly full and poured boiling water into the pot, leaving it to steep until it was a rich, almost rosy brown. We poured the tea and added a little milk, sipping and nibbling on American English muffins.

My Beloved and I enjoyed having her youth and shy charm with us until she moved into her rented room to begin all the bureaucratic nonsense involved in getting settled in the U.S. and enrolled in classes. I'm happy to know how to make proper English tea to drink with my shortbread; Naomi came to learn but ended up teaching instead.

Subtle Summer Quencher

I continued to subscribe to Sunset magazine even when I lived in the east - the gardening advice was no earthly use to me there but the recipes were always inspirational and the rest of the magazine was nostalgic. Now that I'm back in the west, I can enjoy the whole magazine, back to front, as soon as it arrives each month.

In a recent issue, they gave the recipe for a relaxing summer drink. Not having any "dried culinary lavender" on hand, I skipped that and just used the chamomile tea and mint. All you do is add about two chamomile tea bags and a cup of mint leaves, crushed in your hand, to about a quart of water and stick it in the refrigerator for a few hours. After you fish out the tea bags and the mint leaves, you are left with a lightly golden, mild and minty iced tea that really is refreshing and relaxing. I've been drinking it for weeks now and getting more and more mellow by the minute.

Or, maybe it's retirement that's so relaxing?

In any case, give this tipple a try - it's truly a summer pleasure.

Solar Power

Why is it that as fuel prices rise and rise, it never occurs to the power companies simply to give up on fossil fuels and start working harder to harvest the abundant solar energy that beams down upon us from a loving sky every blessed day?

They give us all kinds of "reasons" why but I'm not buying their logic - if we put men on the moon many moons ago, we can certainly design solar collectors that make the whole enterprise cost effective.

Sheesh, I can make a great pitcher of tea in less than three hours using nothing but water, tea bags and the sun's energy - it's there for the taking, people! Not one scintilla of fossil energy was used to convert my dried leaves into thirst-quenching, non-carbonated, anti-oxidant heaven. If I can perform this miracle any sunny day, why can't Exxon-Mobil or Chevron see the light, literally and figuratively?

P.S. I wrote this just to use the word "scintilla." Is that a wonderful word, or what?

French Tea, English Idea

When Cousin J-Yah and I were window shopping a few months ago, we noticed a pretty but pricey tiered plate and remarked about how nice it would be to use it for a tea party like we did when we were children.

Then, not long after, I happened upon Tal-Y-Tara, a delightful little San Francisco shop that offers an unusual combination - horse tack and afternoon teas. Their tea included several different kinds of sandwiches on brown bread, quite delicious and served in a charming hodgepodge of jodhpurs, saddles, comfy chintz sofas and flowered teapots. I liked their selection of a variety of little bites so when J-Yah scored this colorful tiered plate at a yard sale for a tiny fraction of the cost of the one in the window, I stole their idea for our first tea party.

Using a combination of my homemade white and whole wheat breads and B&M Boston Brown Bread, all very thinly sliced, I stuffed them with fillings such as cucumbers and dill, cream cheese, chicken, cheddar and chutney, and ham and cheese with Dijon mustard. With a few ripe strawberries and some cookies to round out the meal, we brewed some of the The' de Paques and sat down to a tea party, happy as little girls.

Vacation Memories

We discovered Mariage Freres tea in Paris because our rented apartment was just down the street from their flagship store and tearoom in the Marais. We were enchanted and one day had a lovely respite there from the rigors of sightseeing. The surroundings are very "old world" and our young waiter was dead serious about our selection from their 800+ kinds of teas - no kidding, the menu was a bound book! When My Beloved ordered orange tea, the waiter replied with a long face, "Ah, bon, monsieur but we 'ave a problem with ze orange tea. A very grave problem." We traded looks of dismay. "We have three kinds of orange tea - and you must choose." From his voice of doom, you'd have thought it was Sophie's choice. That weighty decision duly made, we enjoyed our tea very much and purchased this little canister of Easter tea (The' de Paques) as we left.

When I opened the canister, I realized just how serious they are about their teas' freshness - inside the lid, which fits very tightly indeed, there is another lid even more precisely sized with a little button handle to help you ease it out.

On our way home, we flew through Heathrow airport in London where My Beloved picked up this tin of cookies as a sort of consolation prize for having to leave Europe. Recently, it all came together to enliven my afternoon after a morning of re-caulking the shower stall. I lead a very glam life at home, as you can tell. I filled my mother's silver tea ball from the fragrant contents of the canister, nuked some water to a fierce boil in the microwave (what else are microwaves good for?) and brewed myself a lovely accompaniment to some of the Harrod's cookies.

They weren't the very best cookies I've ever eaten but the tea was excellent and they were a reminder of a lovely vacation and how lucky I am, caulking gun and all.