The art of taking tea is more than a simple beverage housed in a lovely vessel—it is a refreshment for the soul. Whether served in grand environs or in the heartfelt comfort of home, alongside loved ones or in contemplative solitude, teatime has a unique power to take hold of our hearts and affix itself dearly in our memories. Here, our readers share their most beloved recollections of afternoon tea.
Tea has been a large part of my life for a very long time. I have had wonderful experiences, from walking through tea fields in Taiwan to sipping tea in Paris and London, but when I think of my favorite story, it is the one that began my love of the experience of teatime. As a young girl, I traveled to a town in California with my mother to look for a new home. We found a tiny house owned by two British sisters. Their only request before they agreed to rent the house to us was that we come for tea. When we arrived at their home, I was wide-eyed, taking in all the antique furniture. I had never seen anything like it. Sitting prominently on the buffet was their silver tea service. Soon, they served us a black tea with milk from that very set, along with store-bought cookies. They shared stories of taking tea in England, and I was enchanted. We ended up living in their little house for about eight years. When my mother was blue, she brought out her one chipped teapot, two cups, and soldier-cut pieces of toast. We would sit at the kitchen table and briefly pretend to be rich ladies. After a while, we were laughing and could go on with our day. Tea definitely lifted our spirits.
MARILYN MILLER
Portland, Oregon
My most enduring memory of taking tea was on a winter afternoon when I was a lonely young wife. I had traveled with my husband into the city so that he could attend a convention for his job. We would have our dinners together, but during the day I was on my own. On the first morning, this arrangement proved fun as I visited the art museum and then window-shopped the afternoon away. But since we were newlyweds and living in the country at the time, I felt a little out of my element in such a refined place. After only two days, I was bored and lonesome. So I decided to stay in our hotel room, take a bath in the fancy marble tub, and read by the window overlooking the park.
My plan went well until I became hungry. Perusing the hotel’s beautiful room service menu, I decided to order what was called “tea.” I was merely hoping for a cookie or two to appear with my hot cup of tea.
In short order, there was a gentle knock at the door, and a smiling attendant silently rolled in a small table covered with a snowy cloth. On top was a large silver tray with lace doilies cushioning a polished silver tea set. There were ornate silver tongs leaning against a gleaming bowl of sugar cubes, a petite white dish brimming with lemon slices, an oblong plate of crackly water biscuits, various cheeses stacked like a miniature pyramid, a small bunch of plump green grapes, bright orange quarters tucked together on a small crystal dish—and tea. Being young and relatively unsophisticated to the ways of the world, I had never seen such a beautiful presentation, and I whiled away the afternoon sampling all the delicacies, including the tea, which I poured through a fanciful silver strainer into a dainty teacup with matching saucer.
This tea tray, with all its nuanced graciousness, has remained in my heart and has become my gold standard for having tea in winter. I take care to buy nearly bursting sweet grapes for my tea trays and always have a fresh box of water biscuits in my cupboard. I have been thrifting antique white linens for years and have built a lovely collection of tea items, including some silver pieces of my own.
Even now, with decades separating me from my newlywed days, I can still conjure up the details of that surprisingly delightful and elegant hotel tea tray as I set out once again to re-create it for myself on quiet winter days.
DONNA MACDONALD
North Kingstown, Rhode Island
As a young girl, I adored fictional tea parties. They appeared in storybooks with gently worn teddy bears and charming dolls nestled around small tables while their youthful owners poured diminutive cups of tea for them to share. These were such enchanting scenes that I could only imagine the taste of the tea as I read aloud to my three younger sisters. We were a family struggling to make do with what we had; tea sets were a luxury we could never afford. Later, as a young wife, mother, and teacher, I eagerly collected Royal Albert’s Old Country Roses china and any tea accoutrement that struck my fancy. I longed for a real tea party.
In March of 1992, a dear friend gave me a copy of Victoria magazine. Inside was a brief article about a tearoom called the Queen Mary in Seattle, Washington. As providence would have it, our family would soon be vacationing with my husband’s parents in their home just a few miles from this very tea shop. Being the sweetheart that she is, my dear mother-in-law promptly made reservations for us. I fondly recall spending a delightful afternoon eating scrumptious sandwiches and comestibles served on a tiered tray, all while drinking copious amounts of fragrant tea. Not wanting to forget a single course or tidbit, I quickly scrawled the entire menu of delicacies and teas from our delectable feast inside that 1992 copy of Victoria, afraid that these epicurean memories would vanish all too soon. My daughter, Nicole, who was about ten at the time, explored each new course with enthusiasm and used perfect manners as she too fell in love with taking tea. We were smitten!
Tea was now more than just a drink; it was an experience that inspired me. I quickly researched everything I could on tea, tea parties, and recipes. I honed my skills to create elaborate menus with delicate scones, homemade jams, savory sandwiches, and a variety of elegant desserts.
I enjoy having tea parties with my friends and sisters, but my favorite tea experience was with my daughter. Nicole recently took me to the Phoenician for afternoon tea in Scottsdale, Arizona. Its live piano music and contemporary styling were all-encompassing and ethereal. We availed ourselves of the luxury of tea, with its mouthwatering treats and calming interludes. Nicole and I chatted heart-to-heart as only mothers and daughters can. It was then I realized that the little girl who had only viewed tea parties in books was now experiencing a picture-perfect tea party with her adult daughter. What an exquisite full-circle moment. I am now quite sure that tea parties are better enjoyed in real life with the people we love.
DEBRA HATTON
Lone Jack, Missouri
I have always adored indulging in the comfort of a hot cup of tea. There is something enchanting about the juxtaposition of a fancy, delicate vessel holding a substance with the power to strengthen, heal, and fortify. When I was in the tumult of my teenage years, a simple cup of herbal tea could—if only for a moment—whisk me away to a dimension free of the chronic illness for which I was undergoing treatment.
During this time, I often found solace in the fragrant steam rising from my teacup to my face as it stimulated my senses and reminded me that I was still alive. It seemed fitting, then, to celebrate my eighteenth birthday with a small tea party, despite my weakened state. My mother had lovingly decorated a small round table with pink roses and mismatched teacups, and I remember wearing a blue-and-white seersucker dress as I eagerly awaited the arrival of my boyfriend, Dean.
He appeared with a smile on his handsome face and a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. As I took a moment to admire the beauty of the bouquet now in my possession, I looked up, only to notice him missing from my view. Moving the flowers aside, I found him on one knee with an open ring box. What started as a simple tea party during a time of uncertainty turned into the first cup of tea we shared together as an engaged couple. Ten years later, we are still partaking in the pleasures that teatime can bring, forever thankful that the Lord sustained my life and that my eighteenth birthday tea party wasn’t my last cup of tea.
KATE WILLIAMSON
Rockledge, Florida
To read more letters from our readers about the art of taking tea, see “Precious Cups of Memories” in the September/October 2023 issue, available on newsstands and at victoriamag.com. Plus, submit your thoughts for our latest Calling All Readers prompt to perhaps see your words published in a future issue of Victoria!
