Market to Mouth: Savoring the little traditions
November 4, 2009 by Louise Ross
Filed under Food, H & G
On a crisp fall weekend, I’m happiest hunkering down with a cup of tea, a sweet treat and a good book. Sounds simple, but I love a good “cuppa.”
In Australia, where I’m from, a “cuppa” tea is usually had with a small biscuit (cookie) on the side. It’s a British tradition we inherited. In fact, the tradition of a 15- to 30-minute break for a mid-morning and late afternoon cuppa with a biscuit or piece of cake or crackers with cheese is still common, more so in rural areas.
When I had afternoon tea with my grandmother, who liked to imagine an affinity with the now-deceased mother of Queen Elizabeth (Nana and the Queen Mother were born the same year and were both small in stature), it was quite a performance.
You see, afternoon tea was a ritual for her. It involved setting the table with fine tea china and silverware, boiling the kettle longer than need be (fortunately she’d remove the whistle), and warming the teapot by filling it with the boiled water.
While the teapot warmed, she’d lay several tea cookies on a doily on a plate, pour milk into a small silver jug and retrieve her Orange Pekoe Fortnum and Mason tea tin from the cupboard. Emptying the pot of warming water, she’d add a teaspoon of tea per person and one for the pot — that’s three teaspoons of loose-leaf tea for two people.
Nana kept a selection of knitted and hand-sewn tea cosies that neatly fitted her teapot. One of those cozies would go over the teapot now filled with tea and more hot water. Placing the pot on a trivet on the table, she’d insist it must sit and steep for at least five minutes.
At this point, I’d find myself frothing at the mouth with impatience! But I guess in the manner of traditional Japanese tea ceremony, English-style afternoon tea is an exercise in patience and unhurriedly partaking in something as simple as a lovingly brewed “cuppa.”
My grandmother always poured a dash of milk into her cup first, after which she’d slowly pour her tea, stopping at the half-way-up-the-cup mark to return the pot to its upright position (to let the water in the pot swirl around the tea leaves one last time) before resuming filling her cup. I have no clue why, but adding tea to milk affords more tea flavor than adding milk to a cup of poured tea.
Once our cups were filled, Nana would stir hers with her silver teaspoon. (She wasn’t stirring in sugar because she didn’t have sugar in her tea. I think she just liked this final step in the ritual.) I’d follow protocol, offering my grandmother one of her cookies before helping myself, and then finally we’d sip our tea — but dunking one’s cookie was an absolute no-no!
Whatever your favorite tea, try brewing it with love and enjoying it in an unhurried fashion with a special someone.
And despite Nana’s rules, feel free to dunk your cookie.
– By Louise Ross
Ross, of Boulder, writes a recession-strategy food blog, www.markettomouth.blogspot.com. Here, she shares tips on grocery shopping on a budget and cooking healthy meals with no waste and no fuss. Contact her at markettomouth@gmail.com.
