A Valentine's tea with Margery Sharp

Image from A Subtle Revelry.

Last month, through the power of BookBub, I discovered Margery Sharp.

Or perhaps I should say rediscovered, for I was a fan of The Rescuers as a child. I had no idea she'd written so many novels for adults until BookBub featured Cluny Brown*.

This charming story features an eccentric and headstrong girl from London who is sent by her uncle into service at an elegant country house. Knowing little of domestic labor in a stately home, she struggles to understand household tasks, class barriers, and unexpected romantic overtures. Passages like this in which Cluny is chatting with potential suitor Mr. Wilson (the local chemist who lives with his nearly catatonic mother) made me giggle:

“Thank you for letting me stay,” said Cluny, blinking.
“Mother’s taken a liking to you,” said Mr. Wilson. “I can see that.”
Cluny wondered how he could tell. Several years before she had made quite a friend of an old man who took a tortoise into Kensington Gardens; and he told her he was never sure whether the tortoise enjoyed these outings or not, whether it didn’t after all think, “Damn this grass.” However, Cluny supposed that from long experience Mr. Wilson could detect in his mother shades of expression, intimations of pleasure, unapparent to any one else.

Cluny Brown was adapted to film in 1946 by Ernst Lubitsch, whose lengthy directing resume also includes my personal favorites The Shop Around the Corner (inspiration for You've Got Mail) and the delicious pre-code romp Design for Living (based on the Noel Coward play and featuring an extra-swoony Gary Cooper). I was able to locate the DVD for Cluny Brown, but you can watch it in its entirety on YouTube! Lubitsch took many liberties with the original story, but it all serves to bring the romance into sharper focus AND to feature Charles Boyer, who basically runs away with the film.

*I was struck by the name "Cluny" because I love the Musée de Cluny in Paris, but according to the novel Cluny is short for Clover.



Following Cluny Brown I read The Flowering Thorn (1934), about a Bright Young Thing who impetuously adopts an orphaned boy. She can't afford to keep him in London, so with the help of an uncle they move to the country. Hijinks ensue, but not in the silly way you might expect. This is a quieter novel than Cluny Brown, and it's more about our heroine falling in love with a community than a mere man. Currently I am reading Something Light (1960), featuring a plucky dog photographer who is tired of her "Girl Friday" status with the men in her life. She's ready to marry for money! This book is much more along the quirky lines of Cluny Brown, and I am avoiding all spoilers because I know this novel will surprise me in delightful ways.

**********

And now for our Valentine's tea, I offer you gluten-free glazed sugar cookies with "Thé des Amants" from Palais des Thés.


I cheated a little and used this mix from King Arthur Flour, purchased at Whole Foods. (Click here if you'd like to make the cookies from scratch.) I don't ordinarily keep gluten-free or almond flour around the house, so my trick for rolling out the dough was to put it between two sheets of parchment while still soft, roll it, chill it, and then cut the cookies out. No flour needed at all! And the recipe for the glaze is right on the box. Easy peasy.


Tea description (from the purveyor): Rich and sensual, Thé des Amants is a heady, fragrant blend of black tea, apple, almond, cinnamon and vanilla, spiced up with a hint of ginger. In French, Thé des Amants means 'Tea of the Lovers.' Délicieux!


And here is the tea tray!

How about you -- any romantic reads or Valentine snacks to recommend?

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY TO ALL!

[Cross-posted at Livejournal]

Tea with Jane Eyre

Jane flees Thornfield (Haddon Hall) in 2011 film.

Charlotte Bronte's 200th birthday last year inspired me to re-read Jane Eyre, and I decided to make this part of my Read Harder Challenge by watching two film adaptations for comparison to the original text. I'd been meaning to re-watch the 2006 BBC version with Toby Stephens and Ruth Wilson, and I'm always eager to watch the 2011 theatrical version with Michael Fassbender and Mia Wasikowska. What a pleasure to read the book*, watch both adaptations and compare! It also was great fun to pair the book with tea and a sweet treat, as you'll see below.

(*Actually, I alternated between reading the e-book and listening to Thandie Newton's spectacular audio performance.)


I'd forgotten that both the 2006 and 2011 adaptations were filmed at Haddon Hall in Derbyshire (as was the 1996 Franco Zeffirelli version with William Hurt and Charlotte Gainsbourg!). I've visited Haddon Hall in both the summer and at Christmas time, and it's one of my favorite old piles in all of England. It seems perfect for Thornfield Hall--castellated and gloomy in a Gothically romantic way, also boasting a rushing stream and lovely terraced gardens. The 2006 version makes a little more use of the Haddon Hall interiors, whereas the 2011 version uses Broughton Castle (another lovely place to visit!) for many of the interior shots.


So, which adaptation did I like better? The 2011 adaptation will always be my favorite, but the 2006 TV movie is quite good in its own right. Excellent performances from Toby Stephens and Ruth Wilson, and a teleplay by Sandy Welch that is mostly true to the original. Welch departs from the book by presenting Rochester as a naturalist, and by introducing house party discussions of the scientific study of twins (???), as well as musings on the paranormal. There's even a scene with a table transformed into a talking board. (Why add a talking board when you already have gypsy readings?)

The 2011 theatrical version is stripped-down, but effectively so. I like the Rivers family as a frame, and I do prefer Fassbender's darker Rochester--he has a bit more menace to him and doesn't babble so much as the original. Mia Wasikowska truly does seem little and plain(ish) in this adaptation, but also strong-willed. I think the scene that really seals the 2011 version as my favorite is when Rochester begs Jane to stay after the revelation of his dark secret. "I cannot get at you, and it is your soul that I want!" (Watch the scene--you know you want to!) I also love the ending--very compressed from the original, but somehow more satisfying to me.


I've probably mentioned my Haddon Hall china from Minton before. I first saw the pattern at the Haddon Hall gift shop, but it just wasn't feasible to ship a set back to the U.S. Fortunately, I later found pieces from various sets at Replacements.com. They don't match perfectly, but I think that makes the collection all the more charming. And, of course, the Haddon Hall china seemed perfect for a Jane Eyre tea!

For my tea treat, I made parkin, a spicy oat cake from the north of England, particularly popular in Yorkshire (home to the Brontës).

[Parkin] is eaten in an area where oats rather than wheat was the staple grain for the poor. It is closely related to tharf cakes - an unsweeted cake cooked on a griddle rather than baked.[7] The traditional time of the year for tharf cakes to be made was directly after the oat harvest in the first week in November. For festive occasions, the cake would be sweetened with honey. In the seventeenth century (about 1650) sugar started to be imported from Barbados[b]- and molasses was a by-product of the refining process. Molasses was first used by apothecaries to make a medicine theriaca, from which name the word treacle is derived.[8] As molasses became plentiful, or treacle as it became called at that time, it was substituted for honey in the preparation of tharf cakes. (From wikipedia)

After a disastrous attempt with a different recipe, I had success with this: Parkin--a Guy Fawkes Night Tradition. The recipe is accompanied by a helpful explanation of Parkin's connection to the 5th of November, and it uses U.S. measurements and ordinary ingredients. (I happened to have golden syrup on hand, but according to the recipe corn syrup will suffice.)


It looked a bit like a pan of brownies when it came out of the oven, but oh, the glorious spicy smell!


This parkin was very moist and filling. If Jane Eyre had tucked some of this in her pocket, she might not have suffered so much on the moors before the Rivers family took her in! For tea I needed something strong to match the spice of the bread, so I chose the Irish Breakfast from David's Tea in honor of Charlotte Brontë's Irish heritage through her father, Patrick Brontë (originally Brunty or Prunty from County Down, Ireland).

Some related links for your edification and amusement:

--The Best Yorkshire Recipes (some nice options for sweet treats here)
--A Jane Eyre tea blend from Adagio
--Every Meal in Jane Eyre, Ranked in Order of Severity, from The Toast
--A Tea with Jane Eyre necklace at Etsy
--Jane Eyre Tea Cozy patterns for knitters!
--Walnut Tea Sandwiches inspired by Jane Eyre
--Jane Eyre, the Fragrance, from Ravenscourt Apothecary (this is a NEAT site!)
--And finally, this long-time favorite: Dude Watchin' with the Brontës from Hark, a Vagrant.

Also, some of my previous Jane Eyre-related blog posts:
--Brontës on the Brain (Nov 2013)
--The Problem of Kissing in Jane Eyre '11 (Aug 2011)
--Derbyshire Top Ten, including photos of Haddon Hall (July 2011)
--I saw Jane Eyre yesterday (April 2011)

[Crossposted at Livejournal]

December Tea and a Book: No Holly for Miss Quinn (Christmas at Fairacre)

Quick take: So COZY.
(Special thanks to Laura B. for recommending it and to Glenda A. for gifting it!)

Goodreads synopsis: Miss Quinn, who cherishes her privacy, intends to spend Christmas on her own as she likes it. But before the holiday, her brother telephones to tell her that his wife has been rushed to the hospital, and would Miss Quinn come and stay with the children? Miss Quinn's unexpectedly hectic Christmas has a significant effect upon her life.

(Above you see Christmas at Fairacre, an omnibus that includes No Holly for Miss Quinn. Check this Goodreads page for reviews and links to various vendors of the individual novel. Or check here for the omnibus.)

My thoughts: My mom has always loved the novels of Miss Read (a.k.a. Dora Jessie Saint, who died in 2012 at the age of 98). I read one or two of them when I was young, but at that time I didn't have quite such a powerful craving for quiet and cozy books. Well, I do now! And amidst all the madness of late, this book certainly hit the spot.

I thoroughly empathized with Miriam Quinn's preference for quiet and solitude. At the same time, it was great fun to see her thrown in with her brother's somewhat feral brood of children. Oh, the appalling disorder! How satisfying to watch her organize them, and then how delightful to see her loosen up and enjoy various sweet moments of connection with each child. My favorite part involved the two nieces, one of whom knows "the truth" about Father Christmas and is aching to spoil her younger sister. Our Miriam deals with that in a lovely way.

No Holly for Miss Quinn is a quick read brimming with warmth and humor, and even a tiny bit of romance. Chime in if you've read it -- I'd love to hear about your favorite moments!

Related favorite things:


I particularly enjoyed the illustrations by J.S. Goodall, which gave me the same cozy feeling as those of Garth Williams (the Little House books) and Pauline Baynes (the Narnia books).


LOOK AT THIS! I have listened to this Enya CD about a million times, and I never once associated this song with Miss Read. How delightful! Do have a listen.

Miss Read/Dora Saint wrote of her own childhood in Fortunate Grandchild and Time Remembered (now combined in a single volume entitled Early Days). Also, for more on her inspiration for the novels' settings, see On the Trail of Thrush Green.

And now for tea:


I tend to make the same treats every year for Christmas, so this time I tried something different: Chocolate-Cherry Snowballs from the Betty Crocker website. Click the link for the recipe, which is pretty straightforward. I will say, however, that next time I'll make the cookies smaller because they really should be bite-sized. (Otherwise, MESS.) Also, I would recommend you wait until they are quite cool before you roll them in the powdered sugar. They need time to set so as not to crumble when you roll, and they get stickier as they cool, which makes the sugar cling nicely. (I learned all this the hard way, of course!) I followed advice given in the comments and used maraschino cherries instead of candied, which worked quite well. (Where does one find candied cherries, anyway?)

Here is a closer view of the "snowballs".

In the pot is Thé des Délices, a black tea containing citrus peel, candied mandarins, and cocoa nibs. So delicious, and only available during the holidays from Palais des Thés.

Don't forget to check out my December Holiday Reading List, and do let me know if I've left out one of your favorites. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

[Cross-posted at Livejournal]

September Tea and a Book: Daddy Long Legs

Quick take: Such a delight!

Official-ish synopsis: First published in 1912, this young adult novel is comprised mostly of letters from orphan Jerusha "Judy" Abbott to her anonymous benefactor whom she names "Daddy Long Legs". The letters chronicle her departure from the orphanage through four years of college. Judy makes new friends, slowly gains knowledge and independence, but also struggles with her humble past and unfixed future. (from Amazon)

Good news: This e-book is available from both Amazon and Barnes & Noble for only $0.99!!!

For years I kept seeing positive references to Daddy Long Legs, and you know how I love stories of orphans and foundlings, so I decided to give it a try. WOW! It took me less than five pages to fall for Judy Abbott. She is clever, hilarious, and quite forward-thinking for her time. And when anyone tries to push her around, she pushes back

Some favorite passages:

I find that it isn't safe to discuss religion with the Semples. Their God (whom they have inherited intact from their remote Puritan ancestors) is a narrow, irrational, unjust, mean, revengeful, bigoted person. Thank heaven I don't inherit God from anybody! I am free to make mine up as I wish Him. He's kind and sympathetic and imaginative and forgiving and understanding--and He has a sense of humour. (53)

Don't you think I'd make an admirable voter if I had my rights? I was twenty-one last week. This is an awfully wasteful country to throw away such an honest, educated, conscientious, intelligent citizen as I would be. (105)

Just back from church--preacher from Georgia. We must take care, he says, not to develop our intellects at the expense of our emotional natures [...] It doesn't matter what part of the United States or Canada they come from, or what denomination they are, we always get the same sermon. Why on earth don't they go to men's colleges and urge the students not to allow their manly natures to be crushed out by too much mental application? (135)

NOTE: As you can see, Judy is very free with socio-political criticisms, but she has her frolicsome moods as well. She reminded me of an L.M. Montgomery character--brimming with imagination and entertaining opinions!

And now for tea:

Judy spends the summer after her first year of college at Lock Willow Farm.

The farm gets more and more entertaining. I rode on a hay wagon yesterday. We have three big pigs and nine little piglets, and you should see them eat. They are pigs! We've oceans of little baby chickens and ducks and turkeys and guinea fowls. You must be mad to live in a city when you might live on a farm. (52)

When Judy mentions picking blackberries on the farm (something I did every summer on my grandparents' farm), I found myself with a powerful yearning for blackberry cobbler. Doesn't that sound lovely for a late summer tea?


I used this recipe from Ree Drummond, the Pioneer Woman (who lives in Oklahoma, of course!). Simple preparation and very tasty.


It didn't seem like a true cobbler without a little scoop of ice cream. I chose Breyers lactose free vanilla.


To pair with the cobbler I chose the Assam Hattiala from Palais des Thés, "a beautiful large leaf Assam with an abundance of tips, a pronounced, very spicy aroma, and dark, full-bodied liquor." Perfect with a warm and sweet afternoon treat!

[Cross-posted at Livejournal]

March Tea and a Movie and a Book!

My dear friend Michelle visited earlier this month--it's an annual thing for us. We shop, have tea, see movies at the theater, watch tv and movies at home, and, of course, we talk, talk, talk. I look forward to it every year, and it's always hard to say goodbye at the end.

This visit I asked Michelle if she would watch Bright Star (2009) with me. I'd seen it twice already, and I wanted to share it with her. And you know what? I think I loved it even more the third time!


As you may already know, Bright Star is the story of the ill-fated romance between John Keats and Fanny Brawne (played respectively by Ben Whishaw and Abbie Cornish). The film was written and directed by Jane Campion, who also wrote/directed one of my all-time favorite films, The Piano.

I adore the look of this film--it balances the ordinary and extraordinary with an exquisite attention to detail. We see that the feelings shared by Keats and Brawne are powerful and transformative. At the same time, Campion honestly depicts the melodrama of youthful passion (Fanny was only 18 when they met), as well as the ways in which each might have been in love with the idea of love.


As a companion to the film, Campion published Keats' letters to Brawne, along with a selection of his poems. The passion in his letters is, at times, breathtaking:

I cannot exist without you. I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again -- my Life seems to stop there -- I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving -- I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love. (13 Oct 1819)

I wish Fanny's letters weren't lost to us. Apparently the letters she sent to Keats in Italy were buried with him unopened. Fanny mourned him very publicly for years. She did eventually marry, but not until twelve years after Keats' death. Her letters from him were not released until many years after her husband's death, and they created quite an uproar when published. Many thought Fanny was vain and shallow, certainly not worthy of Keats' love. (argh!) However, the 20th century publication of Fanny's letters to Keats' sister offered a different perspective on Miss Brawne--one that apparently inspired director Jane Campion's depiction of her as steadfast and kind.


For my "Bright Star" tea, I chose Brigadoon Breakfast from Adagio, perhaps in memory of Keats' faithful, if infuriating, friend, Mr. Brown. (Contrary to the film, Charles Armitage Brown was not Scottish, or at least wasn't born there, but he and Keats long had a dream of traveling to Scotland together.) Brigadoon Breakfast is a very special Scottish Breakfast blend that only makes an appearance every four years. (It is out of stock until Feb 29 2020!) The official description: "Celebrate Leap Day with this Scottish Breakfast Blend of Assam and Keemun teas. We've added a touch of Silver Needle and blue cornflowers to evoke the blue and white of the Scottish flag that Brigadoon would fly."


To go along with the tea I made scones using this easy-peasy lemonade scone recipe. The funny thing is that Michelle and I tried to make these scones while she was here, but they didn't turn out very well, possibly because I didn't have self-rising flour and instead had to make my own with [possibly outdated] baking powder. (Or did I use baking soda???) Whatever the error, the resulting scones were flat and strange-tasting. My second attempt yielded much better results, though I think they needed to bake a little longer, and I would urge you to use a well-floured biscuit cutter.


I whipped my own cream (not as thick and wonderful as true clotted cream, but still quite nice) and used Crofter's Organic Strawberry Spread. I prefer the Devonshire style of putting cream first and topping with jam. (See this article for more context.) Very tasty!

[Cross-posted at Livejournal]

January 2016 Tea and a Book

This past weekend I accompanied Steve on his trip to NYC for the AALS conference. Once he was finished with sessions on Saturday, we took a long walk through Central Park and rewarded ourselves with afternoon tea in the Plaza Hotel's Palm Court. (We booked in a advance, of course.)


We loved the vibe in the Palm Court -- jazz music, lots of chatter and laughter with great people-watching opportunities. It was especially fun to watch the young ones enjoying their Eloise teas, which included pink lemonade, pb&j sandwiches, and cotton candy, along with more traditional tea fare. (See more about Eloise below.) Here's a more detailed review of the afternoon tea, from which I gather that the Palm Court used to have a more formal atmosphere. Steve and I rather liked the buzzing, upbeat feel to the place. I suppose some might find the music a bit loud, but we did not strain to hear each other.


The tea was perfectly steeped. I enjoyed the Big Ben English Breakfast (a blend of Assam and Yunnan), while Steve chose Thé des Amants, (black tea blended with apple, almond, cinnamon and vanilla). Both teas can be ordered from the Palais des Thés website.


The "New Yorker" tea tray is divine, don't you think? The warm scones are snuggled in the napkin on the lower rack.


Here is a closer look at the sandwiches, which were traditional and tasty, along with the sweets, which were extraordinary. There was no way we could finish it all, but the "leftovers" made for a perfect snack that evening.

And now for the book: The Absolutely Essential 60th Aniversary Edition of ELOISE.

I had a vague notion of who Eloise was, but prior to this tea had never read the book. Of course, I rectified this omission as soon as I got home! The 60th edition of Eloise is quite nice, and I appreciated the essay and scrapbook from Marie Brenner, which included a biographical account of author Kay Thompson and charming notes from illustrator Hilary Knight.

The book is clever and often endearing, but I'm not sure I would have enjoyed it as a child. If memory serves, I was more wrapped up in books about animals or pioneers. Eloise's life at the Plaza would have seemed very alien to me, and though I've always loved books about children with wild imaginations, I think her "trickster" tendencies might have stressed me out a little.

Fortunately, Marie Brenner's essay helped me better understand the appeal: "[Eloise] lived mother-free in a poor-little-rich-girl paradise without rules. As she raced from a mint raid in the Empire Room to spy from the Baroque ceiling of the Grand Ballroom, she lured us into an intoxicating urban fantasy. [...] Eloise was free to express the dark gleams of her inside. She could offer rubber candy to adults and let fly with her opinions. My daughter, Casey, on discovering Eloise when she was six, said of her reverentially: 'She is a bad girl!'"

I'm considering tracking down Eloise in Paris, and Eloise at Christmastime. Any other Eloise fans out there? Please feel free to enthuse in the comments!

ETA: Oh my -- do check out Jama Rattigan's celebration of Eloise!

[Cross-posted at Livejournal]

July Tea and a Book

Tea and a Book is back!

(I have to admit, however, that this installment is a bit of a cheat. You'll see what I mean later.)

My favorite read of the summer (so far) is Kimberly Brusker Bradley's The War that Saved My Life.


The story features many of my favorite things: WWII England, child evacuees, cozy villages, horses, and more. The very accessible first-person narration is quite gripping, and the horrors of abuse and war are offset by the protagonist's horsey adventures (yay!) and blossoming friendships with people in her new community. I absolutely devoured this book! I'm sure I'll read it many more times.

Here's the official blurb:

Nine-year-old Ada has never left her one-room apartment. Her mother is too humiliated by Ada’s twisted foot to let her outside. So when her little brother Jamie is shipped out of London to escape the war, Ada doesn’t waste a minute—she sneaks out to join him.

So begins a new adventure for Ada, and for Susan Smith, the woman who is forced to take the two kids in. As Ada teaches herself to ride a pony, learns to read, and watches for German spies, she begins to trust Susan—and Susan begins to love Ada and Jamie. But in the end, will their bond be enough to hold them together through wartime? Or will Ada and her brother fall back into the cruel hands of their mother?

Earlier this week Steve and I enjoyed a day trip to London to visit the Imperial War Museum. My favorite bit was the permanent exhibit entitled The Family in Wartime, partly because it brought back memories of The War that Saved My Life. (click photos to enlarge)


Evacuation propaganda posters.


I took this (terrible) shot while Steve and I were sitting in an Anderson bomb shelter -- Ada, Jamie, and Susan spend some tense moments in one of these!

After our all too brief visit, we made our way to Piccadilly for tea at Fortnum & Mason. And now you see the "cheat" part of this post -- I did not make my own tea, and I do not have any recipes to share. There's no reference to F&M in The War that Saved My Life, but I'd like to believe it would have been one of Susan Smith's favorite places to shop before the war, perhaps with her dear Becky.


The Diamond Jubilee Tea Salon had a nice "relaxed posh" feel to it. The young man who brought our tea tray recommended that we put a drop of strawberry jam and lemon curd on our scones and mix it all together. This sounded blasphemous to me, but we figured it was only polite to try. Absolutely scrumptious. So there's a tip for you, gentle reader!

[Cross-posted to Livejournal]

February tea and a book: The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up

When I met with my editor earlier this month, she enthusiastically recommended this book by Marie Kondo (and was nice enough to send me a copy). As a lifelong clutter bug, I was intrigued by Kondo's technique of organizing your possessions by reducing to those that "spark joy."

The method is rather drastic, but just reading about her process felt like a gentle sweep of my mental cobwebs. I don't need so much stuff. I can let the joyless things go. I am NOT genetically fated to be a packrat! (In my family, hoarding was known as "Granny Green-ing," after my great grandmother Clemie Green.)

Kondo's thinking might seem a little "woo woo" to some. She strongly believes that inanimate objects want to be cared for, to be useful, and that they'd rather be donated than remain unwanted in your closet or on your shelves. Kondo has a very spiritual approach to tidying, a particularly Japanese approach, and I (being a wee bit "woo woo" myself) found it very appealing:

To truly cherish the things that are important to you, you must first discard those that have outlived their purpose. To get rid of what you no longer need is neither wasteful nor shameful. Can you truthfully say that you treasure something buried so deeply in a closet or drawer that you have forgotten its existence? If things had feelings, they would certainly not be happy. Free them from the prison to which you have relegated them. [...] Let them go, with gratitude. Not only you, but your things as well, will feel clear and refreshed when you are done tidying. (61)

Kondo insists that we tidy by category rather than room. She recommends starting with clothing, and then moving on to books, papers, miscellany, and finally, sentimental objects. However, since my books seemed more out of control than my clothing, I decided to start there. I thought it would take me half a day, but it actually took about three days because I did follow her process of taking everything off the shelf and touching each item. I confess to keeping a few "joyless" volumes for reference, but it was interesting to track my emotions as I touched each book. Not only did some of them not spark joy -- they actually sparked disgust. INTO THE DISCARD PILE! What a great feeling.

And soon I look forward to tidying up my closet and chest of drawers. According to Marie Kondo, we shouldn't hang so many of our clothes. Folding is better for most items, and she recommends storing items vertically. I vaguely understood what she meant when reading, but this video helps clarify the folding part:



And this is what a drawer with "vertically stored" clothes would look like:



Her method for socks intimidates me. Still, I'm eager to take the next step in this tidying process!

And now for tea . . .


I was terribly excited to use my Japanese teapot -- a gift from my (ex)stepmother, Rosemary -- for this "tea and a book" post. Prior to this I hadn't used it very much because I usually drink black tea. Also, my limited experience with Japanese tea had left me convinced that it all tasted like sour grass clippings. I know now that I was steeping the leaves too long in water that was too hot. I steeped Adagio's kukicha for two minutes in 175 degree water, and the result was delicately grassy/nutty with a sweet finish. I purchased the sesame almond tea cookies from Radiance Tea House when I was in NYC. If you'd like to make your own, here's a recipe from Just One Cookbook. These Almondina biscuits look rather nice, too!

[Cross-posted at Livejournal]

January tea and a book: the Blandings novels

I just love a clever English comedy set between the wars, especially if it involves a country house party. After gobbling up multiple novels by E.M. Delafield and Angela Thirkell (each already featured on "tea and a book"), I decided to shake things up a bit...by choosing another English comedy involving a country house party.

Okay, so I didn't shake it up that much. But I deliberately chose a male author, and the stories are set in a slightly earlier period. Plus I have TWO books to recommend (with more to come, I'm sure.)


Yes, I am finally reading P.G. Wodehouse!

Both of these books involve the garden-obsessed and rather bumbling Lord Emsworth, who hosts weekend parties where very silly crimes are committed, crimes that are perpetrated and/or exposed by guests using false identities. Lord Emsworth's featherbrained son, Freddie, is always in the thick of the trouble, and we end up rooting for whichever pair of guests seems to be falling in love. Wodehouse tends to assign most of the cleverness to his female characters, which is refreshing. And what a surprise to encounter Psmith (the "p" is silent), who wears a monocle (see above) and talks a great deal of piffle! Was Dorothy Sayers inspired by Wodehouse when she created Lord Peter Wimsey? Or is it simply that all Old Etonians wear monocles and talk piffle? Hmmmm...


And check this out! I think the series is based on the early collection of Blandings short stories, so I'm looking forward to watching soon. Any fans of this TV adaptation out there?

Now for the tea . . .

The cup of tea on arrival at a country house is a thing which, as a rule, I particularly enjoy. I like the crackling logs, the shaded lights, the scent of buttered toast, the general atmosphere of leisured cosiness.

P.G. Wodehouse, The Code of the Woosters

I've noticed in various English novels set between the wars that bread and butter or buttered toast often feature in tea offerings, particularly in those gatherings that take place before guests return to their rooms to leisurely bathe and dress for a late supper. Buttered toast is one of my favorite things to eat with tea, but I always like to add a little orange blossom honey:


The bread for the toast is from Panera -- I love their country loaf because it has generous air pockets in which the butter and honey like to dwell.

For the tea I chose Royal Breakfast from Paromi, purveyor of organic teas. (I found mine at Whole Foods, but it's also available to purchase online.) Described as "a majestic blend of hand-picked black teas from the Dibrugarh District in Assam, India and the Red River in Vietnam's Yen Bai province," the Royal Breakfast is wonderfully brisk and satisfying.

(I also bought the Coconut Almond and just now noticed that they offer a Chocolate Orange blend. Wow!)

[Cross-posted at Livejournal]

Christmas glee part III: Tea and HIGH RISING

This month's "tea and a book" recommendation has such a Christmassy cover, doesn't it? Or perhaps it's just wintry, but that's almost as good. Angela Thirkell, granddaughter of Pre-Raphaelite phenom Edward Burne-Jones, published High Rising in 1933 and went on to write several more novels set in Barsetshire, a fictional English setting borrowed from Anthony Trollope.

This edition from Virago Modern Classics is particularly attractive AND free of typographical errors, unlike my older copy from Moyer Bell. Looks like Virago will be releasing more of Thirkell's books in the near future, and I look forward to getting my hands on Wild Strawberries in March.

High Rising centers mostly upon Laura Morland, a widowed mother of four who makes ends meet by writing best-selling suspense novels set in the fashion industry. Laura gets involved in several real-life village intrigues over Christmas and New Years, all while trying to survive the boundless energy and volubility of her youngest child Tony, who only wants to converse about trains. Allow me to share some favorite passges:

On motherhood:
Oh the exhaustingness of the healthy young! Laura had once offered to edit a book called Why I Hate my Children, but though [her publisher] had offered her every encouragement, and every mother of her acquaintance had offered to contribute, it had never taken shape.

Laura on the first church service of the new year:
Tony was an exhaustion to the spirit . . . and they had one of those psalms about Thy molars gnash upon me exceeding hard and my loins are spilled abroad on the ground, and I nearly got the giggles.

George Knox, after he and Laura leave King Lear at the first interval:
If there is one pleasure on earth which surpasses all others, it is leaving a play before the end. I might perhaps except the joy of taking tickets for a play, dining well, sitting on after dinner, and finally not going at all. That, of course, is very heaven.

(I certainly can relate to the last remark, having escaped an outdoor production of Lear at the interval last summer. I mean, it's not like the story takes a happy turn! And it was cold. And my bottom hurt.)

Aside from a few unfortunate anti-Semitic jabs (which baffles me because one of the romantic heroes--beloved by everyone in the book--is of Jewish descent), this is a jolly read that had me barking with laughter throughout. Can't wait to read more from Thirkell.

And now for tea...

This month's tea offering is a product of my curiosity and laziness. A few years ago my in-laws served toasted slices of panettone for breakfast, and I, fearing potential grossness but not wanting to be a jerk, ate a small slice. Glory be, turns out I love the stuff! My husband, however, is not such a big fan, so it doesn't really make sense for me to buy the usual cake-sized portion. But lookee here what Immaculate Baking Company has on offer -- mini panettones that you can bake at home. Huzzah!


They are as easy to make as canned biscuits, and quite delicious! Keep in mind, however, that they are only available during the holiday season. I found mine at Whole Foods.


For tea, I chose "Esprit de Noël" from Mariage Frères. Lucky for you, getting your hands on this tea does not require a trip to France. You can order it online from The Cultured Cup. It has a delicate nutty/fruity/spicy flavor that pairs well with holiday treats.


I cut the mini panettone in half and toasted it -- so delicious with butter. Don't let Rustic Santa's grim face fool you, he heartily approves!

And that about wraps it up for me in 2014. Happy Holidays and see you in the new year!

[Cross-posted at Livejournal]

November tea and a book: The Signature of All Things

I first saw The Signature of All Things recommended at the blog of Stephanie Burgis, and knowing how much Steph and I have in common when it comes to fiction preferences, I figured it would be just my cup of tea. Prior to this, I'd never read a book by Elizabeth Gilbert, who (as you probably know) shot to fame with her memoir, Eat, Pray, Love. I became a fan of Elizabeth Gilbert the person, however, when I saw her Ted Talk on creative genius. And when I learned that the heroine of this novel is a botanist in the Victorian era, I was eager to dive in.

What an odyssey! All I wanted to do all day was read Alma's story, which is not to say I found the book perfect, but it certainly was wildly absorbing and thought-provoking. (And since I tend to recommend children's books on this blog, I want to be sure you know this is an adult story, probably suitable for older teens and up.)

If you'd like a little more context, please watch this three minute book trailer. I love it particularly because Gilbert admits to searching out an actual house in Philadelphia to be White Acre (the grand house where Alma Whittaker grows up), because she likes to "go out and roll around in the world" she's inventing. I certainly can identify with that!



And now for tea . . .

This month I chose the Almond Oolong from Adagio. I don't drink Oolong that often, but I wanted to feature something a little different, and its delicacy and fruity/nutty flavor paired nicely with a sweet treat.


That red blob, a frosted sugar cookie, is supposed to look like an autumnal maple leaf, but oh well! My tummy was pleased. You can find the recipe here. And be sure to use almond and vanilla extract in your frosting. :)

To conclude, I'll link you to this List of Thanksgiving novels from psychologytoday.com. I attempted The Ghost at the Table (too dreary) and finished A Patchwork Planet (nice). Would you second any of the other recommendations on the list? If so, please let me know!

Happy Thanksgiving!

[Cross-posted at Livejournal]