Tea Cakes

Despite living in Britain for 22 months, I had yet to have a "proper" tea.  This was just unacceptable to my wonderful, baker friend Amy, who redeemed her birthday coupon this past weekend with an afternoon at the Wolseley.

Now, going for tea in England is not just a hot kettle of Lipton, oh no. Having tea is an event of cultural significance, and the manner in which you take your tea a symbol of your social class.  Ahhh, whatever, this is clearly about the cake (insert sarcastic comment about my class here).

The Wolseley, a darling little room off Picadilly Circus, is the "it" place for a proper tea in London.  Led off with a glass of champagne (well, at least ours did), the warm pot of warm pot of Wolseley blend tea is accompanied by a three tiered tray of finger sandwiches, pastries and scones.  Let's go row by row:

Sandwiches in Britain could have an entire chapter written about them, although it would be a dull one. They certainly do NOT believe in filling.  In fact, it seems the thinner the layering in the sandwich the higher your class level, and THAT I do not get. Paper thin cucumber?  Must be a princess. So, first floor contained five different crustless finger sandwiches - tarragon chicken was tasty.  I ate them all in a matter of minutes.

I'll skip to the top level ... scones.  It was in Cornwall (recall surfing trip here) where I was first introduced to clotted cream.  As far as good things go, this stuff ranks up there with cheese - and - I - love - cheese. Warm raisin scones with cream and jam along side your tea is a treat.  Add in the silver enamelled serving spoons and this really is all I would have needed for this tea to have been deemed a culinary success.

Yet, there was still the middle tray of petite sweets. Cookies, cakes, strawberry tortes, chocolate eclairs ...  Num num.  I can see why this tea tradition has stuck.