An Everyday Treat

There's no doubt that going out for afternoon tea is a special treat: the cakes; the scones; the little sandwiches. But tea-drinking is not just about leisurely afternoons spent overdosing on sugar: sometimes you just fancy a good cuppa. At home this is no problem - I need only open my overflowing tea cupboard and take my pick from the forty or so teas (!) therein. But what to do when I'm out and about?

I know lots of coffee shops have supposedly "good" tea but I've never found any worth stopping for. A limp teabag on a string floating in a huge heavy mug of scalding water just doesn't do it for me. No, if I'm out of the house and fancy a hot beverage I'll usually just make do with a coffee. But the other day I found it - the holy grail of the casual tea drinker: a cafe that specialises in tea but manages to make it feel like an everyday treat. I had spotted Tea Pod at Butler's Wharf when visiting the Design Museum but each time it's been too busy or I've been in too much of a rush to stop for a cuppa. But the other day, after my sister and I failed to meet a friend for lunch (an epic modern communication error), we spotted another branch in the Fashion & Textile Museum just behind London Bridge station. Sadly, the museum itself was shut as it was a Monday (must remember to go back there) but with the cafe open and lots of seats free we decided it would be churlish to walk on by.

Well, I'm so glad we didn't. Tea Pod was great. Kind of like a Starbucks for tea. But I don't mean that as a criticism. I know we all like to bash Starbucks and talk about how they're putting independent cafes out of business but I just don't remember that many places serving good coffee before Starbucks and the other chains came along. Sure there were always your Bar Italia's and the like but if you were in a small town in England or even outside of the very centre of London you were as likely to be served up cup of Mellow Birds as a good espresso a few years ago. Anyway, I digress. Tea Pod was a revelation: bright colours; large tins of proper tea leaves (black, green, oolong, white, infusions - the lot), specially made cakes and scones - in case you do need a sugar fix with your cuppa, and simple but clean tables and chairs on which to enjoy your tea and the free wifi.

I chose the House Blend to drink, which was an Assam, Sri Lankan Uva mix and a scone with clotted cream to munch on. My sister gave the tea a miss (are we really related?) but went for a chocolate brownie with raspberries and white chocolate. We took a seat and waited for our order to arrive a couple of minutes later. I was especially pleased to see that the tea was served in a little Japan Zero beehouse teapot which gives enough room for the leaves to move around but won't stew them, and a proper cup and saucer. No big fuss was made but a little card came with the tea explaining the suggested brewing time for whichever type you've ordered. It was just what I had been looking for: an unpretentious place that takes tea seriously but doesn't make too big a deal about it.

 

As for the sweet goods accompanying the brew, they were pretty darned good too. I was given a choice of fruited or plain scone (woot!) and a generous portion of jam and clotted cream to accompany it. And my sister's brownie was pretty spectacular too: rich and chocolatey with tart raspberries cutting through. Yum. In fact it was so good I actually forgot to take a picture before it was nearly all gone!

I think Tea Pod is a real find. It's not a destination tea spot - not somewhere you'd make a big plan to go to - but if you're near London or Tower Bridge and fancy a well-made cuppa at a reasonable price I can't imagine you'll find many places that do it quite as well. Luckily for me London Bridge is my main transport hub (I won't be saying that when the Olympics roll around...) so I can imagine I might well be making a few trips down Bermondsey Street when I'm out and about. And for the rest of you, get lobbying the Tea Pod people to open some more branches. More quality tea served the way it should be can only be a good thing.

An Art Deco Delight

I really love the idea of pop-up restaurants. The chance to visit someone's home and have them cook for you is exciting and definitely satisfies the nosey-parker in me. Although I'd only been to one pop-up afternoon tea before I have been keeping my eyes open for any others that looked appealing. Then, out of the blue, I got an email from my lovely friend B who told me about an Art Deco inspired tea party that her and her partner S were going to. Frankly, the words Art Deco and tea put together in a sentence are enough to make me go just about anywhere but when she told me it was in Peckham - just up the road from me - I was beyond excited.

When I first requested a couple of places for myself and Coffee Boy I was told we were too late; but I kept the date free in my diary just in case of any drop-outs. And in the final week I was rewarded! We were sent the address and told to dress up if we wanted to (we didn't as I don't really have anything appropriate) and I awaited the tea party with baited breath.

When Sunday afternoon rolled around we battled the idiosyncrasies of the London transport system (it was the weekend: of course the train that would have taken us there in 6 minutes wasn't working; so much more enjoyable to catch a bus that gets stuck in traffic and then walk for 20 minutes) and made our way to the splendid 1930s Pioneer Centre in Peckham. It's a really unusual set of apartment buildings that looks more like an office complex than a series of homes and during the course of our tea we found out why.

 

Our glamorous host Helena showed us the most fantastic film made in the 1940s about the centre, and The Peckham Experiment that took place there. It explained, in the most hilarious way, how it was designed as a health centre for "ordinary working people" in an attempt to study and improve their health. It had a faint whiff of eugenics about it but at its heart it was actually a fairly modern idea: exercise, happiness and illness prevention as a means to long-term health. As such the centre had various classes, clubs and a rather wonderful swimming pool which is still available for residents to use today: serious flat-envy alert!!

The tea party that we were at certainly didn't have too much to do with health or exercise (although we were offered a swim in vintage swimming costumes) but it had plenty to do with happiness. We started the afternoon with a glass of champagne mixed with a violet liqueur that I'd never had before. As I think I may have mentioned, violet creams are my absolute favourites (even the roll of Parma Violets my mum put in my Christmas stocking brought joy to my heart) so you can imagine how thrilled I was to discover this little tipple. Let's just say it won't be the last time it passes my lips... And then, the avalanche of deliciousness began.

We started with lovely little triangle sandwiches - all the faves were there, smoked salmon, cucumber, and some sort of meat for the meat-eating folk (sorry wasn't paying attention). And then, after our stomachs were prepared, the sweet-fest began. And what a sweet-fest it was. The cakes that Helena makes are absolutely divine. There was everything from chocolate loaves to a rich Dundee cake; the most divine meringues I think I've ever had; and a beautiful lemon gateaux. And on top of all of that were scones with jam and clotted cream and even more cakes and biscuits. It was completely overwhelming and delicious. There wasn't a single thing I ate that didn't make me want to go back for more.

The delicious food was only one aspect of what made the afternoon so enjoyable, though. I loved the way the room was set out with one larger dining table, a small table for two, and a couple of seating areas for two or three. It was so relaxed and although we had friends there it wouldn't have been the least bit stiff or intimidating if we hadn't. There were "waitresses" decked out in vintage clothes who were always on hand to make sure we had enough tea or cake, and Helena's partner played their wonderful grand piano for us. It all just felt so decadent and glorious and the fact that everything was served on beautiful vintage china certainly didn't hurt. But if you're thinking this sounds a bit too grand you couldn't be more wrong. Some people dressed up, and some didn't; some (like me) had loose leaf tea in a beautiful teapot, and some chose a nice strong cup of builder's; some people mingled and chatted with other people and some didn't. It was all so laid-back and fun.

In fact, everyone had such a smile of their face a few hours later when it was time to leave; no one was even moaning about the fact that they were going to have to face that very worst that London transport could throw as them - even our friends who had to make their way right across town to Chiswick. Of course, it could have been the fact we were all carrying away a little goody bag full of cakes that Helena had forced on us (okay, there was no real forcing involved) but I think it was largely because it had just been the most wonderful afternoon. And all for only £20: surely a bargain in any tea-aficionado's book.

Helena runs these tea parties regularly, each with a different theme and with the proceeds going to different charities. But on top of that she has her own cake making business; so if you need something for a special occasion that both tastes delicious and looks absolutely beautiful you should definitely check out her website.

First image The Peckham Experiment

Tea on the Go

For many of us, Christmas means a lot of time spent driving between relatives delivering Christmas cheer and indulging in one-too-many mince pies. One of the worst things about being on the road is drinking horrid machine coffee from a paper cup; I mean, I don't even consider drinking takeaway tea in those circumstances as, although I love a good cuppa, I'd rather avoid tea altogether than drink an underwhelming cup. I guess I'm just not one of those "can't live without tea types"; I find it relatively easy to give it a miss if there's only a disappointing bog-standard tea on offer.

So it was with some interest and curiosity that I found an email in my inbox from Little Chef asking if I'd like to test-run their new tea offering. I decided to take them up to satisfy my curiosity if nothing else. I have to admit that it's been some years since I went into a Little Chef for anything other than a sneaky use of their facilities; and in my mind's eye tea there would consist of one of those metal teapots with an uninspiring tea bag floating inside. But apparently all that has changed. Nowadays they are moving into the world of loose-leaf tea which, as many of you will know, is definitely a positive step as far as I'm concerned. I received a tin of Taylor's of Harrogate English Breakfast Tea which was tasty, full-bodied and the kind of tea that is going to hit the right notes for most people. But almost as exciting as the tea was the fantastic teapot I received to brew my cuppa in.

I don't know about you but I am a serious fan of teapots that allow you to remove the leaves once the tea has reached its required strength. The benefit of these kind of pots is that not only do you avoid a horrid stewed cup of tea, but you can also pop the leaves back in for a second infusion later on. The pot I received from Little Chef was one of the most ingenious I've come across. You put your tea leaves inside a little metal caddy that attaches to the lid of the pot; this caddy then dangles down to infuse and when the tea has reached the strength you like you just lift up the metal arm on top of the lid which elevates the caddy up out of the water. Not only is this a very nifty idea, it makes perfect sense for a café; after all, not everyone likes their tea the same way. I know many people like a good strong cuppa but I'm filled with disappointment when I get a teapot filled with tea that is already dark brown in colour.

 Now I'm not entirely sure if all Little Chefs will be featuring these teapots - but I certainly hope so. For me a well thought out set of tea accessories suggests a place that thinks about the drinking experience; and loose leaves served in a clever pot can only be good. I notice on their website that some branches are even serving Rare Tea's RAF blend, which I have been enjoying at home lately, and green tea too. All this seems like a very good thing to me.

In all honesty Little Chef is not somewhere I would ordinarily venture into, but finding out that they are starting to take tea seriously has made me think again. The thought of a well-brewed cuppa to break up monotonous journeys is very appealing. But perhaps even more heart-warming than that is the thought that Britain might just be starting to change from a country that loves tea, to a country that loves good tea. Now that would really be something to smile about.

A Cold Dog in a Pastel Parlour

Do you sometimes get stuck in a rut afternoon tea-wise? No? Well maybe it's just me. Really good tea and cake experiences are just not that thick on the ground, so when I have the chance to indulge I find it very difficult to pass up on one of my old favourites where I know I'm going to get exactly what I want. But sometimes you have to branch out and try something new.

The other day was one of those days: it was sunny but cold and a little bike ride before settling down for an afternoon read seemed like a good idea. Unusually CB and I decided to have a mooch up Kastanienallee - a supposedly very hip street in Berlin for those that don't know; I'm always reading it's known as Casting Alley as it's so full of models, photographers and other hipsters but I've never actually heard it called that by anyone other than a guidebook writer. Anyway, I digress. We spotted a cute looking little place called Napoljonska which seemed fairly quiet and decided to give it a whirl.

On entering I was struck by just how un-Berlin the cafe was. A riot of pink and pale grey with matching chairs and tablecloths it just didn't fit the identikit bare concrete and secondhand furniture mould I've come to love and expect in the Hauptstadt. No, this looked like some serious time and effort had been put into achieving an actual coordinated look. Normally that might put me off but in this instance I rather liked what I saw. Something about being in there made me feel like I was inside one of the huge old-fashioned sweetie jars behind the counter: pink walls, pink gingham tablecloths, cute sweetie-style lampshades - I know it all sounds a bit much but it was actually perfectly balanced with grey chairs, a couple of grey walls and a grey floor.

The specialities of the place are homemade waffles and crepes with a huge choice of fillings. They looked great but given that we had dinner plans later that night they seemed a bit excessive. We decided instead to go for the intriguingly - and not altogether pleasantly - monikered Kalter Hund, or Cold Dog. Despite conjuring up images of an old limp frankfurter in a soggy bun this was actually a rather delicious chocolate and biscuit layered fridge cake. I have since found out that it's a staple of celebration tables in Germany. Who knew?

Anyway, to accompany our sweet but delicious Kalter Hund we were fairly spoilt for choice. There were a good selection of teas - both green and black, and the usual collection of coffees. I went for a vanilla rooibos as I had already had about 8 cups of tea that morning and CB went for a flat white, because he likes to think he can blend in with the hipsters. Both were fab. My rooibos came in a really lovely little teapot and consisted of leaves rather than a bag. But the star of the drink-show was the flat white - wow, it was fantastic: strong and full of flavour without being bitter. Despite my quality tea I actually had just a little bit of envy for the coffee.

Although the place was pretty quiet when we arrived it soon filled up. Unsurprisingly, given the whole look and vibe of the place, it filled up with parents and young kids. In and of itself that wouldn't be a problem but many of the Prenzlauer Berg mums and dads fall into the "let your kids screech at the top of their voices otherwise you are an authoritarian tyrant" category. Honestly whenever I spend half an hour in a place in P'berg that's full of little ones I understand why the staff are so grumpy! But the symphony of screeching didn't reach its crescendo until we were about ready to leave anyway so it didn't spoil our enjoyment too much.

Napoljonska really is a nice place: the cakes and waffles look great - and if the Kalter Hund is anything to go by they taste great too; the drinks are of a really good quality; and it looks super-cute. There was something amazingly refreshing about being in a place that had totally gone to town with the decor - right down to the fifties-style font on the sign for the toilets. It may be a little too styled for many Berliners' tastes but in truth the bare walls and concrete floors thing is a carefully-studied style too. I for one applaud Napoljonska for trying something a bit different - and succeeding.

(p.s. Sorry for the recent lack of posts - difficult times in the ATT house have pushed blogging to one side. I'll try my best to do better!)

A Massage and a Cuppa

The promise of a nice cup of tea is enough to encourage me to do pretty much anything. So when a friend told me about a place near her Berlin flat that served up a massage accompanied by a cup of tea I was intrigued. I am not the world's greatest massage fan but the thought of being pummelled whilst trying to sip a scorching brew sounded exciting if not a little dangerous. I decided I'd give it a try.

Having got 32 mosquito bites the night before (I don't want to make a big fuss but I had repellent on all exposed skin; that didn't deter these little bloodsuckers who just bit me THROUGH MY CLOTHES!) I was a bit worried about spreading the poison that my allergic reaction had brought forth around my body. No worries, my friend told me, you keep your clothes on - this is a mechanical bed massage. Suddenly, I was feeling far more enthusiastic about the whole thing.

Arriving at Jade Vital I was pretty blown away. I had expected a massage place which served up a nice cup of tea - kind of like you get at the hairdressers; but no, this was a proper tea shop stacked full of tins containing everything from top-grade Sencha to a rich black Ceylon. I was seriously impressed by the selection and all of the lovely cups and teapots that stood alongside but there was no time to ogle just yet as it was massage time. We were shown through to the adjoining room and I was put on a bed alongside the huge window. As I wiggled myself into the correct position, the woman - who I assume was the owner - told me (in helpful English) that the massage would take around forty minutes and that I should place the thermal jade-ball thing on my "organ area". I guessed that was my upper abdomen, popped it there and I was away.

The massage was pleasingly vigorous. A set of rollers within the bed travelled up and down my spine and two other sets concentrated on my lower legs. The spinal rollers were so strong as to actually lift my whole body up, which felt strangely satisfying. I discovered later, when I had had time to read and translate the leaflet, that the rollers were full of jade balls believed to have a mystical power in eastern medicine. I have no idea if anything mystical was going on but it certainly felt good. The bed and the thermal thing on my abdomen got lovely and warm and the sun streaming in the large window did a wonderful job of making me fully relaxed. The massage was a little too rigorous to fall asleep to but I definitely finished my forty minutes feeling relaxed and tingly.

Now, as if all that pleasure wasn't enough, it was tea time. There was a fairly overwhelming choice of tea but my eyes alighted on the sign for "new bubble tea". As it was such a warm evening my friend and I decided that was what was required. We both went for a green-tea based, mango juice tea with traditional black tapioca pearls. It was actually really delicious and I found that this non-milk variety was actually much nicer than the last one I'd tried.

 
What a fantastic place Jade Vital is; it's one of those curious combinations that sounds odd but makes perfect sense once you are there. Of course it would be perfectly possible to pop in for a cup of tea with some homemade cake or just go along for a massage but the real pleasure is surely in treating yourself and enjoying both.

And best of all this pampering visit is something of a bargain: just €7 for the massage and around €3 for a tea. If you can think of a better treat for around a tenner I want to hear about it. In fact, at that price I see no reason why it can't become a regular thing. And that's my very favourite kind of treat - the one you can indulge in as often as you like.

A Well-kept Secret

Do you ever find yourself in that situation where you discover something and wonder how you hadn't known about it before? That's what happened to me a couple of weeks ago when my friend M had a stopover in town on her way from Tokyo to Düsseldorf. I was wracking my brains trying to think of somewhere to take her when I decided to do a bit of Googling for inspiration. Narrowing my parameters to Soho, Covent Garden and Piccadilly (nobody wants to spend a stopover trekking around town) I saw a couple of references to Soho's Secret Tea Room. At first I ignored them not realising this was the actual name of the place and then I did a little bit more digging. Here, apparently, was an old-fashioned tearoom in a hidden room above one of Soho's most traditional pubs. Why had I not heard of it before? How long had it been there? Was it any good?

With so many questions there was only one thing to do: book a table and go and bloomin' well go and do some hands-on research. My hope before arriving was that I could show my friend a proper English afternoon tea. Not the kind of thing you get in big fancy hotels and department stores where she was more likely to be surrounded by her fellow Japanese countrywomen than ordinary London folk, but the kind of afternoon tea that real Brits enjoy; the kind of repast you remember having at your grandma's or your great-aunt's when you were a kid. In short, my holy grail of afternoon teas.

At first I wasn't sure I'd made the right choice. As we went into the old boozer with its selection of colourful Soho drinkers I was a little worried this may be a slightly-too-authentic experience for her. My feelings weren't assuaged as we were shown behind the bar and up the stairs. Having grown up in pubs this brought back all sorts of memories for me but I could tell that M was wondering where exactly I had brought her. But as we entered the tearoom all my worries evaporated. A beautiful old room with bare floorboards, dark wooden tables covered with lace tablecloths, cream walls with chimney-breasts painted a rich inky green, old fireplaces and sash windows with billowing lace curtains - it was just perfect. It really felt like sitting in your aunt Nellie's parlour - but not a posh aunt Nellie; this would have been the kind of room that was kept for best and used only on an occasional Sunday. It was exactly what I was hoping for. The abundance of cakes set out in the room and the languid 1930s jazz playing over the stereo only helped to give the place a truly lovely atmosphere.

We both decided to plump for the Traditional Afternoon Tea for £14 which included sandwiches, scones, a slice of cake and cupcake of our choice, accompanied by a pot of tea made with proper leaves. It was all choices, choices, choices so we decided to spread our bets and go for different things so we could try as much as possible. The sandwiches were egg mayonnaise, smoked salmon and cream cheese and, of course, cucumber. I have to admit to being a little bit disappointed by them. We were the first people there, having to have our afternoon tea at lunchtime as M wasn't in town for long, but already some of the sandwiches were feeling a bit soggy. The fillings were tasty but really quite meagre and in the case of the egg mayonnaise seemed scarcely thicker than a good spread of butter. I know these kind of very delicate sandwiches are in keeping with the "austerity Britain" feeling of the tearoom but I do think you can take these themes a bit too far. Having said that the smoked salmon sandwiches were really delicious and at the very least these savouries served as a bed on which to lay the linen of the sweet-stuff to come.

 

From here on in the meal took a decided turn for the better. In keeping with the vibe of the place. the sweet stuff on offer wasn't of the fancy and dainty kind; no, these were proper, full-size treats. We were given a choice of plain or fruit scones (hallelujah!) and there was really good strawberry or blackcurrant jam to put on them - along with a little pot of clotted cream. The scones were great - the kind I never seem to be able to make myself: firm yet crumbly and a perfect basis for the loveliness on top. Then it was time for the cakes. I chose a Bakewell tart, which was more of a Bakewell cake, and M went for the carrot cake. The carrot cake was good with plenty of sweet cream-cheese frosting on top, but the Bakewell tart? Wow. It was truly delicious. Just the right amount of cherry and a fantastic almond icing on top. By now we were feeling pretty stuffed but we still had a full size cupcake to get through. We considered taking them home with us but what with M's flight and me remembering that Coffee Boy was out and I therefore probably wouldn't bother to make dinner, we just decided to go for it. I chose a chocolate cupcake with chocolate frosting, after all there had been no chocolate so far... And M lightened it up (ahem) with chocolate with vanilla frosting. They were both really good. That lovely moist texture with enough but not an excess of buttercream.

By this stage we were really reaching sugar saturation point. Thank goodness we had a big pot of tea each to help wash it all down. I went for a Russian Caravan, as is my wont, and M went for the more traditional English Breakfast tea. Both were excellent and our friendly, white-aproned waitress was very forthcoming in her offers to top up our pots with hot water. I managed to drink the contents of two large teapots which might sound like a lot but we spent a good three hours gorging ourselves that afternoon and in the scheme of things that felt entirely reasonable.

What a wonderful afternoon we had. A truly lovely space, which I discovered is also the setting for Private Eye's infamous long-lunches, and some really great cakes, scones and tea. I'm not entirely sure I would opt for sandwiches again but for tea and cake I honestly can't think of a nicer place. It's taken me a while to write this review because I almost don't want it to become swamped and impossible to get into. But in the spirit of Afternoon Tea sisterhood I realised I couldn't hold back any longer. If you find yourself in central London and want to be transported to a little piece of tea heaven, head across to Greek Street and wallow in the loveliness of Soho's Secret Tea Room.

A Perfect Sunday

There are few things I like better on a sunny day than poking around gardens that aren't usually open to the public: whether it's a workplace garden or an someone's own little oasis, I love seeing places that are usually reserved for private down-time. Actually I like nosing around pretty much anywhere but that's by the by. So I was pretty excited when I read about Anderl Kammermeier on one of the Berlin blogs I follow. He's an artist who opens the garden of his studio once a month in the summer. Not only does he welcome the public to peek into his private world, but he provides a space for a series of performances and a cafe in which to purchase cake. Clearly, I needed no more encouragement.

I set off to Berlin's Moabit area with Coffee Boy and Rebecca from The Field Office. It was a glorious day so we took our bikes and headed through what we'd imagined would be an industrial wasteland but which actually turned out to be a surprisingly attractive neighbourhood. I've just bought a new camera so we stopped to take a few pics on the way. As soon as we arrived at the studio it was clear that we'd made absolutely the right decision in coming. The garden was truly lovely: dappled sunlight and lush grass and foliage all surrounding a brick workshop where the artist creates his metal pieces.

We first checked out the performance area but as we were a bit early we thought we'd make the most of a free table we'd spotted and grab a drink and some cake. My hopes weren't amazingly high but yet again the German knack for having quality food in the most unlikely of places took me by surprise. There were at least five cakes to choose from including a chocolate torte, and a cheesecake but I found myself drawn to a rather lovely looking peach cake, with a cup of fresh mint tea to wash it down. Coffee Boy went for the strawberry cake and, naturlich, a milky coffee.

Well, what a treat everything turned out to be. My cake had fairly dense sponge on the bottom with a thick topping of sweet vanilla cream filled with chunks of fresh peach and topped with crushed nuts. My tea was strong and refreshing and CB reported that his coffee was top notch. Obviously I had a little sample of his cake for research purposes and can report that it was bursting with a proper fresh-strawberry taste and was nearly as delicious as mine, but not quite. Yet again I win the cake-choosing contest (that I haven't actually told CB about).

Once the performance started CB went over to check it out whilst Rebecca and I guarded our table and continued to chat and enjoy the laid-back vibe of the place.We were a little perplexed by the shouting we could hear coming from the performance area until CB enlightened us. The performance was not flamenco music as I'd thought, but an actor declaiming a poem with sometime accompaniment by flamenco guitar. It sounded interesting but not quite what I was expecting so we decided to forego the crush around the little stage and have a beer instead.

What a gorgeous afternoon it was. We managed to stay at our table under the floating parasol for some hours and then pootled back to Prenzlauer Berg for more drinks and dim sum. Just pretty much a perfect Sunday. And I'm reminded yet again why I love this place so much. The fact that you can buy really good cake almost anywhere makes it just that little bit more special.