TEA TIME

It’s cold enough now that a pot of tea is an essential at the breakfast table, and other times as well!  In fact, there’s a steaming mug here on the desk at my hand – Earl Grey and I are old friends.  I picked up the tea habit all those years living in England.  Wenford Bridge Pottery was such an endearing place and definitely was still inhabited (haunted is not the right word) by my then (and still) deceased father-in-law, Michael Cardew.  He was a genius and established as one of the great ceramists of the 20^th century.  He was obsessed with food (as well as pottery.) The discussion used to run something like this:  Perhaps the reason Michael was hungry all the time was that he was so preoccupied with pots.  Or was he so brilliant at pot making because food was constantly on his mind?  Whichever, a man after my own heart.

But we, you and I, were talking about tea!  I don’t want to go into all the details of a tea ceremony or expound eloquently on the choices:  black, Indian, China tea, green or all the endless flavors on grocery shelves.  But I do want to relate a somewhat charming experience I once had in Washington DC concerning the proper way to produce a pot of tea!  Forgive me, I was living in England at the time and had traveled to Washington for my son, Branko’s graduation from Georgetown Law.  He had booked me into “The George”, (short for George Washington of course) a lovely hotel, just right for an older mother!  The french have such a preferable way of pronouncing George -- much easier on the tongue. 

The first morning, I went down to have tea and toast.  When done right, it is the best way, absolutely, of starting the day.  The dining room was what one would expect in a hotel of that sort; waiter, attired in black tie, performing perfectly.  Having found a copy of the Washington Post, I settled in, lacking only morning tea.  A cup and saucer arrived with a tea bag (ouch) balanced on the saucer and not even taken out of its wrapper.  A little pot of water came too, but not hot, only tepid.  One hates to complain to such a kind waiter, so ……Tea bag into pot and add some not hot water, of course, it wouldn’t brew, I gave up, ate a piece of toast and returned to the room. There I fished a piece of hotel stationary from the desk drawer and wrote a polite letter to the restaurant manager.  Surely I am not the only person ordering tea in that establishment and I would be improving the quality of life of the whole bunch.  I explained to him (or her) how little effort it takes to make tea properly.  Preheat the pot and if you must use a tea bag, at least unwrap it and put it into the pot, then fill with boiling water.  Nothing less than boiling will do.  An additional pot of boiled water on the side is nice.  I also mentioned that it did not befit this lovely hotel to serve tea as I had received it, then complimented the staff in general and wished them all well. 

At all costs, I did not want anyone to get into trouble or to embarrass anyone.  In the interest of anonymity, I left the note unsigned and did not add my room number!  The next morning I returned to the dining room for the usual.  The waiter, ever pleasant and polite, brought a cup and saucer with no tea bag!  Then with a charming smile of self-satisfaction, set two small steaming pots in front of me.  I knew that one was tea and one was water.  He bent down to my ear and whispered, “We even preheated the pot Madame”.  I had been found out.  But what a pleasure it was!

Incidently, if you ever get your hands on a Wenford teapot, don't let go!