Tea at Brown's

Continuing the tea theme, the rose boy called and said, my mother is in town, would you like to have tea? Tea? TEA? Yes yes yes. Hoorah. So after a sweaty Saturday morning of re-arranging my library, lugging the piles and piles of books beside my bed to their dusted resting shelves, I cleaned myself, put on my best dress and shoes, hopped into a cab to meet said boy and mum at Brown's. High tea at Brown's - what a treat!

I admired the Wedgwood teacups, as the sunlit elegance of the tea room enveloped me in its white linen embrace. There were finger sandwiches (I liked the cucumber best). There were scones with clotted cream and jam, and little petit fours (including a delightful lemon mousse encased in a white chocolate covering). There was a piano and a pianist. There was hot piping tea served in a silver service. There were waiters wearing their waistcoats and gentle smiles. The sun was shining and everyone seemed happy. And then there were all these things, and yet, the thing I enjoyed most that afternoon was talking to a grand old lady and her very charming son. That, I have concluded, is the best part of an afternoon English tea.

Still dreaming of tea services...