Archive for the Category »I’m Just Sayin’ «

A guide to afternoon tea (with acerbic undertones)…

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In Blighty we love our traditions. If we’re not marvelling at the televised State Opening ceremony, then we’re certainly arranging a customary knees-up for a Bank Holiday.

United we stand as an island of stiff-upper-lippers, making the most of our temperamental summers, forever uncertain about Daylight Saving Time, and whether or not we should opt for the bourbon over the custard cream – or perhaps that’s just me? 8-O

And amongst the hassle of inside out brolly’s in the pouring rain, gruelling overtime spent at work and sadistic email-inboxes that refuse to ever be empty, we always make time for afternoon tea.

Aah, as soon as 12pm hits I’m filling up the kettle!

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Great, but that isn’t afternoon tea…

Whyever not? – It’s the afternoon…

Indeed. However per se, afternoon tea is specifically a 4pm dalliance with the hot beverage, as part of a light meal; you wouldn’t be completely condemned for partaking in this ritual at 3:59 – unless perhaps, you were spotted doing so by an emaciated ghost version of the late Duchess of Bedford - but that is the tradition.

I’m confused, why exactly is 4pm the tradition?

Well, despite that fact that nowadays you can’t walk for more than two seconds down any high street without being bombarded with franchise after franchise of American-chain-Italian-themed coffee shop, (or a Greggs), in the 18th century there were but two set times to stuff one’s face; breakfast and dinner.

People would become famished in the wait for the latter, and soon, afternoon tea became a great idea in holding them over until their main meal at around 8pm.

Okay, it’s finally 4 o’clock! Tea-bag → hot water → milk…

You could do it that way – but only if you are a glutton for punishment, who enjoys terrible tea!

If you like the good stuff, there  is an ancient order that equals the perfect cuppa; the milk must go in first. And before I am accused of being the tea-police, this idea is owed to chemistry.

Chemistry? Don’t tell me there’s a science to making tea?!

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Quite! – Loughborough University’s Dr. Andrew Stapley concluded that the recipe for the perfect cuppa begins with the ice cold milk hitting the bottom of the cup – first:

If milk is poured into hot tea, individual drops separate from the bulk of the milk, and come into contact with [...] high temperatures [...] for enough time for significant denaturation degradation – to occur. This is much less likely to happen if hot water is added to the milk.

And before you ask, I’m pretty sure denaturation degradation is science-speak, for rubbish tea!

Okay 4pm, milk first, sugar second – afternoon tea complete, right?

You’re nearly there. You need to decide whether this is ‘high‘ or ‘low‘ tea.

High or low? Does that refer to which socioeconomic class I fall into?

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Not quite, but that is a common misreading. These terms actually refer to the height of the table they are served on.

  • High tea (more of an evening tea) is a reference to tea that is traditionally served on a high-set table such as a dining table, commonly found in the dining room.
  • Low tea (or afternoon tea)  refers to tea that is traditionally served on a low-set table such as a coffee table, commonly found in the living room.

So the name of my tea, actually hangs on which table I choose to place my teacup? :-o

As riveting as that sounds, it isn’t so.

The term high also refers to the kinds of nosh served with the tea. High tea was the end of day feast for the hungry working classes during the late 18th century’s industrial revolution.

It was a time when famished workmen would come home to enjoy dining tables decorated with particularly hearty meals, such as shepherd’s pie and Welsh rarebit.

On the other hand, low tea is considerably lighter and is traditionally served with scones, sandwiches or pastries.

Ooh! For a snack, I’m going with scones, jam and cream!

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Yum! I see you’ve gone for cream tea over light or full! ;-)

Cream, light and full? Wait, what?

You’ve chosen one of the three types!  Afternoon tea, traditionally served in tea rooms across the country, can be taken in any of these three forms.

Cream tea is usually served with yummy scones, sweet jam and cold fresh cream. Light tea is a mix of scones and other sweet treats such as Madeleines and battenburg cake, while full tea is served with a melange of savory bites like quiches & finger sandwiches, also with scones and dessert.

So there you have it – the only guide you’ll ever need to afternoon tea! Now, go 4(pm)th and brew! ;-)


Written as an entry to the  Whittard of Chelsea Afternoon Tea Blogger Carnival

Excuse me, your cup overfloweth…

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Reminding, that’s what we need. That things aren’t as grim as we imagine, that it probably isn’t as freezing a winter as we think, that we’re just a little thirsty, not starving.

And so spring finally kicks into gear, bringing with it London’s beautiful lines; the arches, the brickwork, the cobblestones – and before this turns into a musical, let me make my point: I’m thankful.

That this website is two years old, and for two years has maintained your support, that the warmer months are finally here and so I can whip out my sunshades and sandals – and for many reasons I could drone on about, that could probably win in a game of one upmanship with Ned Flanders… :-P

Sometimes we simply need reminding – that even when times are tough, we’ve still got it good…

Who needs a cuddle?

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Although there’s a hidden beauty in unanswered prayer, when things we want to accomplish or achieve don’t happen, we feel a huge setback as if wearing a weight in water.

All the more frustrating is that fact despite resting on the shoulders of loved ones, it is you having to find solace in whatever your troubles; You that must decide your next step; You that should exercise logic and eventually, you that needs to get over it.

Advice can only get you so far, and even if it’s good – too much of it can distract you from the harshness of reality. When it’s bad, it can delude you and make you arrogant.

And then there are people who prey on negativity, who wait for an opportunity to down someone else. Everyone from political extremists, to internet trolls who get far too much attention and probably just need a cuddle.

And it’s your job to cuddle them, physically or metaphorically.

The fall guy…

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Why is it snowing so heavily in March? Why are people losing their livelihoods with no hint of a backup plan? Why is the cost of everything but salary steadily inching up?

Where’s our fall guy? The eighties gave us Reagan (the war on drugs). The nineties gave us the police (institutional racism), the naughties gave us “terrorists” (world attacks) – and now we’re thirsty for someone else to blame.

There is no bargaining. We don’t care that our culture is lazy, and never ask questions. We don’t mind that we don’t understand politics, and just agree with the loudest crowd about what the mayor, or the prime minister is or isn’t doing…we just want to blame.

And I’m not taking sides, I’m calling it like I see it

Lets play the blame game…

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Everybody takes. Be it the p*ss, advantage or simply their time.

We live in a world where to give is seen as weakness; giving a damn makes you a sucker; giving your two-pennies worth makes you nosy. But surely giving makes you more selfless than selfish?

There is one thing we don’t ever want though. One thing that makes us cringe at the thought, run for the hills, and swear on our last cup of tea that the sky is green and the grass blue.

That thing is responsibility.

Who drank the last mouthful of milk? Who’s fault is it that the tap was left running in the bathroom? Who is to blame for whatever the issue is?

And sure, sometimes nobody is to blame. Sometimes responsibility is phantom and the only real issue is fate. But this makes life even more difficult than it already is.

And you think I blame materialism? That I’ll use the modern day as the reason for this attitude. But to say that, is to call myself naive; after all, did Eve not eat from the tree of knowledge?

Taking responsibility is courageous. Allocating it, isn’t.

And this makes responsibility a rare case; one where taking, is better than giving…

If you don’t care…

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Is the horse meat fiasco, a sign of the times?

One thing’s for certain – it ain’t the first time mixed meats have made it onto plates under the guise of 100% pure. And how unexpected!

I mean, I’m pottering around with the news on, and suddenly Tesco is being persecuted whilst apologizing for the mix-up. And it won’t stop sales. If Barclay’s can get away with scamming the public, Tesco is gonna be peachy.

And we think we’re on top, that we’ve been told the whole truth, that justice is served…ha!

And I log onto social media, to see the reactions – and some people are mocking the ‘revelation’ saying that they’re not bothered either way! – That horse meat isn’t harmful so why the uproar?

It’s the principle. – Sometimes the issue itself, isn’t one – but the fact is; I don’t care that you lost it, I care that you took it in the first place…

But – if you don’t care, even about you – then why should anybody else?

[Note - the story exposing Tesco, hit the news the day before they tweeted the following:]

tesco hit the hay tweet

Was my Saturday proof you can’t change fate?

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The bank (wrongly) overcharged me yesterday, but after a very trying phone call with a hands-off employee, they made it right.

The thing is, I had no idea they charged me at all. But before I went about my day on the 12th, I decided to check in with them; It was strange but I just had a feeling I needed to. I was right.

And it got me thinking about coincidences and chance. And then I had to run an errand. So I rushed out to the shops to do so.

The joke is, my brother tells me not to worry, that he’ll go – I can pay him when he get’s back. I feel bad, I convince him that we can go together. He obliges.

And I’m walking, hands in pockets due to forgetting my gloves, and I’m clutching my card and a tenner I planned to spend.

The urgency of being in the cold, and being in a hurry meant that I just wanted to get back into the warm, my main thought.

My bro and I are chatting, I can still feel the card and money in my pocket – we cross the road in a ridiculous manner, so much that I need to remove my hands from my pockets to jog.

There’s a crowd, my brother has bounced into the backdrop, and at that split second, I return my hand to my pocket; the money and the card – gone.

I cannot stress the speed in which this happened. I’m not convinced it simply fell from my pocket either, although that’s possible.

I immediately stop, cold in my tracks (and literally cold, in London’s winter) – I call out to my brother, haphazardly explaining what’s happened, whilst still trying (but failing) to keep my cool.

Despite this, I know the goods are gone, forever.

It’s slightly dark out in the early evening and we’re retracing steps, but nothing.

So despite winning my hard earned moolah back from the thieving bank, I lost some money anyway.

Coincidence? Ha!

Don’t expect a thank you

Don't expect a thank you

From what I’m told by my elders, manners used to be customary.

Putting aside the fact that we all usually swallow fistfuls of salt at an any sentence that opens with “Used to be…” or “In the old days…“, one thing certainly rings true; if common courtesy existed then – it is lacking now.

And although it was before my time, so I can’t accurately reference days gone by when the only available telly was in monochrome; I can dream.

Still, today – hardly anybody says thank you, or smiles. And that’s a shame.

Thank you for not having a filter

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Nobody means everything they say. Am I gingerly calling us all liars? Perhaps.

But like one of Pavlov’s poor dogs, deceit has been hard-wired into us since we first learned to communicate. And this isn’t me being dramatic either, think about it for a second.

You’re told as a child not to react honestly at something where it would make you seem insensitive, to instead be understanding and compassionate for whatever another’s misfortune may be. So if somebody is hygienically challenged, saying they stink and offering them a bar of soap – is practically a sin.

As an adult, you say “fine” even to genuine “how are you’s” because you want to be polite. Even if you’re “absolutely amazing with a dash of brilliant” - You don’t get to say that – well of course you can badger on, but nobody is listening (and possibly, you’re annoying).

As an elderly person, you get shipped off to a care home, and using the word “care” is a stretch if recent news is anything to go by. Yet the word “care” suggests a life of bliss and remains to be the given for one of these organisations.

An then there are the honest and outspoken.

The ones we (think popular to) frown at outwardly, but inwardly thank the heavens for. The people that complain about how long the queues always are; which has a positive impact on that business hiring new staff.

The few that write into the customer care address on the back of a crisp packet; because the contents were not up to standard.

The handful that actually do sit through 5 hour phone calls on hold; and report the technical issue with their device that leads to a fix for all.

And even the little-ans; who don’t yet have a filter for their thoughts – I mean, who doesn’t like turtles? Ha!

Sometimes, you might as well…

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Sometimes, you might as well, because sometimes – it’s kind of the rules.

You know, like eating that last lonely biscuit left in the tin, blazing the volume up on your favourite bass heavy track or laughing as loud & as long as the joke is funny (rather than that customary self-shushing you do to be polite in public).

Sometimes, indulgence beats restraint.

Sure, there’s a thin line: eating the last biscuit when you’ve just gorged the rest of the pack makes you a greedy-guts, turning up the volume on the track when everyone else in the house has an early rise, makes you inconsiderate – and laughing for 10 minutes at a subtlety only you find funny in a cinema of people trying to hear the film, makes you Max Cady.

But, rules are made to be broken, bent and even frisbee’d across a field.  Why? – Because you’re in charge of your destiny…