“Would you like some tea? I have glasses of iced tea,” was the universal question and statement offered to me when I had the pleasure of visiting friends and relatives of my Louisiana home-grown husband.
Unfortunately, I did not live up to the stereotype Englishwoman because I have always hated and still hate the taste of tea. Quite an oddity in my family, I always drank water until I reached my late teens, when my beverage of choice became instant coffee.
|
Advertisement
|
That is the one thing where Americans differ in their choice of this drink. Whereas they enjoy the different flavors and herbs from which some tea is made, the British people know there’s nothing better either in time of crisis or celebration, than a good, strong cup of black tea.
During the second World War, so my parents told me, when the sirens warned of yet another air raid from the German bombers, everyone would stop what they were doing and hurry to the nearest air raid shelter. For some it was the underground railroad. For others, the shelter in the backyard built specially for the purpose, and for many, like my grandparents, under the dining room table. For some who had the forethought of planning ahead, there was hot flasks of tea. For others, as soon as the all-clear sounded, it was time to “put the kettle on” and calm nerves with a cup of tea.
But in England, tea is so much more than a refreshing drink, depending upon how the word tea was, and is, used.
If offered a “cup of tea,” this would be hot tea with a touch of milk and, if desired, sugar.
If you were invited to someone’s home for tea, chances are, especially if it was mid to late afternoon, you would be getting more than a drink. For many Brits, the single word “tea” refers to a small meal. Depending on what part of England it was, this meal would either take the place of the American supper, or simply be a little extra light meal eaten between an early lunch and a late dinner.
But the real treat is the event known as “high tea.”
We always had high tea on Boxing Day (the day after Christmas) when visiting relatives who lived up north.
The large dining table would be first spread with a pristine, white cloth with maybe a lace cover. In no time at all, the table would be filled with sandwiches, small cakes, pork pies, ham and egg pies, pickled onions, salads, sausage rolls, mince pies, thick slices of ham, bread and butter, Scotch eggs (boiled eggs covered in sausage meat, rolled in breadcrumbs and fried, but eaten cold) and all the condiments anyone would ever need. But don’t make the mistake of thinking this was a buffet. Somehow, everyone would get seated around the table (we always had designated spots, why I do not know) and it was all very formal, but a meal eaten in good company, leisurely and enjoyably.
Behind the table, on the sideboard (or hutch) was placed all kinds of delicious-looking jellies that wobbled while being carried out, trifles and cakes to tempt everyone. For us children, these were promises of what would come if we ate everything put on our plates.
Of course, cups of tea were consumed along with the meal (except for young Jennie who drank water) which would last far into the late evening.
Then, of course, there is the well-known, “tea party.” A little like a cocktail party, some of the same dishes you would find at a high tea are served, but it is buffet-style and one has to learn how to balance not only a cup and saucer, but a small plate of food.
These days, I’m far from being the only one drinking water, but I still can’t stand the smell and taste of a cup (or glass) of tea.
I do enjoy a cup of “real” coffee whenever I visit my in-laws in Franklin, but if it’s OK with you, I’ll stick to my daily cup of Maxwell House instant coffee and glasses of cool, refreshing, non-flavored water.
JENNIFER E. MAY is former Teche Life editor for The Daily Iberian.
Comments