Tea at Harrods

I keep telling myself I’m not going to Harrods this time.  Been there over and over. Trotted through the misty rain.  Pushed through the fumbling crowds.  Met the security guards’ stares with a sunny smile.  Nope, not this time.  Not going again.

Then somebody mentions the name, damn them, and I find myself in Knightsbridge, pushing through the heavy glass doors,  browsing the spectacularly redolent  Food Hall, gapping at the £19 (about $31.25) half dozen oysters.  Those are the cheapies.  The expensive ones go for $50 for six.  Not trying to wow you, just reporting the truth as this pauper sees it. (followed by tears and a forced smile)

Go ahead.  Stroll though the fine jewelry room, the obscenely expensive watch emporium, and dejectedly trundle into the fine wines and spirits cellar, where Cuban cigars can run you a cool $50 for one.  Didn’t have the heart to reach out and touch the bottle of the 1951 McCallum Scotch Whiskey (£20,000 or about $33,000).  And my wife thinks I have a drinking problem.  Saw a bottle of French cognac for £30,000.  I’ll leave the math to you.  Breaks my heart to think about it.

So, what can a man and two friends do when they are of moderate means and a used candy wrapper from Harrods is a family heirloom?

Fancy a Cuppa?

Madame et Messieur, may I sooogeeest The Tea Room?  Mais, oui!  Here you may live out your fantasy of sipping a tea, while your chauffeur patiently waits by the Bentley, carefully polishing the door handles, and your bespoke tailor calls to say he will gladly hold your appointment.

Yes, Harrods’ Tea Room is the great equalizer.  A black and white decked waiter will treat you with the politeness reserved for dukes, as he attentively watches you browse the extensive menu.  

Teas of every variety

“May I suggest….” He begins. 

“Suggest away, my good man.  I have no more clue than a nun on a blind date.”

Black tea.  Green tea.  White tea.  All from the far flung regions of the former empire. After all, this is Harrods.  Hard to believe this nonpareil department store, with 330 departments began as a simple grocer, blossomed to hugeness, went public and was purchased by The Fayed Brothers (Egyptian) in 1984 (£615 million) and sold to the current owner, Qatar Holdings in 2010 (£1.5 billion).  No wonder the Harrods motto is Omnia Omnibus Ubique – All Things for All People, Everywhere.  This giant occupies 5 acres and has over a million square feet of selling space.

Quick bar bet winner:  On average, who purchases the most from Harrods??? The average spent by a Chinese shopper is three times greater than that spent by shoppers of any other nationality.

Without getting too political, my wife, a school teacher, bought a beautiful top coat here in the early 1980s, but that was when the dollar was king, making Harrods prices reasonable.

Back to tea.  £5 for a pot of your choice.  We ordered a green, a black, and a white, although one pot would have easily served the three of us.  Plus crumpets. 

With loose tea (far more flavorful) one needs a strainer.

A true English crumpet

Anyway, what are crumpets?  In the former North American colonies, we call them English muffins. The ones in Harrods however are not laced with enough preservatives to compete with Egyptian mummies.  Nope.  These are fresh off the grill, with a dark brown, toasty bottom, and lots of little bubbly dimples on top.  Succulently chewy. Of course, they come accompanied with churnery butter and tiny jars of jam.

How was the tea?  The white had the best nose, with floral accents enough to make you escape with your true love to the garden and propose on bended knee.  The green offered milder flavor, but with a certain serenity on the tongue.  The black, an Assam, had almost no nose, but the full and intriguing flavor ruled the day.

The bill came to something in the neighborhood of £20-25.  Can’t remember exactly.  Too busy considering how I could unsay all those things I said in the garden.

Harrods.  A shopping experience like no other in the world, in the largest and most complete store in the world.  Where money disappears like a spring snowfall.  But, where in the quite solace of a corner of The Tea Room, you can become one with the nobility.  And, yes, no doubt I will be back.

A Tea Party With Jane

Note my genuine, small tomato paste can/cutter

Note 

Slow but sure; medium heat

Fit for Jane A and her fans

I awoke reluctantly this morning, drenched in dreams and silently yearning for another hour of sleep. My wife leaned my way and whispered she had a Jane Austen party to go to and would I make something kind of Englishy to wow the lovely ladies she hangs with.  She didn’t actually use the words “would you.”

“Sure,” I said, both because I’m a nice guy and because I’m terminally task oriented and dedicated to public service.

“I have to leave in about an hour,” she purred.  Which put the pedal to the metal on the “would you make” part of the conversation.

“Jane Austen is an interesting person in a spinsterish sort of way,” I murmured.  “Never married.  Published her novels anonymously, Sense and Sensibility being her first, and she died in 1817, at the age of 42.  Buried in Winchester Cathedral. Now please let her haunt my dreams a little longer.”

“We’re going to watch the six hour BBC version of Pride and Prejudice, but you’re not invited.”

What joy flooded my happy veins! One brief task and the scullery lad would have the rest of the day to amuse himself!  All I need do was stylishly create some biscuits, some jam, arrange them with delightful aplomb, peck the wife on the cheek, and hurry her off to the hencoop.

            With my heart aflutter I scurried to the kitchen.  Over the years, I’ve become adept at scurrying.  When I lived in the States, I was named ‘Best Scurrier’ in a three county area. 

Plus, my giant culinary brain already had a plan.  What is more English than a selection of dainty biscuits, and a pot of home made apple-ginger jam?  All of that can be made in less than an hour.

You already know the biscuit recipe and if you don’t, hold out your hand, while I fetch my ruler.  2 Cups flour, 3 Tablespoons baking powder, 1 teaspoon salt, and 6 pats of butter.  Blend well.  Add 1 Cup of milk to make a dough.

To turn the J.A. party into a rollicking good time, I decided to bake three flavors of biscuits:  sweet, savory, and cheese.  First, I divided the dough into three equal balls.  To one ball, I added 1/4cup of sugar.  To the second, I added a 1/2 cup of shredded cheese. (use sharp cheddar if you’ve got it)  To the final ball, I added generous portions of oregano, basil, and black pepper.  Hey, jump in and help!  Roll the balls out separately to about the thickness of your forefinger. After the sugar biscuits are rolled and cut, pat a little more sugar on top. You should come out with 6 to 8 small biscuits of each flavor.

I like to vary the biscuit shapes and for the dainty digits of the Jane A. aficionados, I made them smaller than usual.  The sweet and the savory biscuits were round and the cheese biscuits square. 

Now do your part.  Put all the biscuits on a non-greased baking sheet and slide them into a pre-heated 450ºF or 230ºC oven.  Bake for about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, make a very simple apple-ginger jam.  I used Pink Ladies, but would have preferred a variety more tart, such as Macintosh.  The more tart the apple, the deeper the apple flavor.  But, when you have exactly one hour, and the flames of a woman’s scorn are lapping at your heels, you use what you’re got.

            Peel, core and finely chop 2 apples.  Put them in a pan with 1 cup of white sugar, 1/2 cup brown sugar, and turn the heat to medium.  Sprinkle on powdered ginger.  Finely diced fresh ginger would have been even better. (refer to last sentence of the previous paragraph)  Stir often and watch to see that the jam doesn’t get too thick.  This can be deceptive, as the juice flows out of the apples and the sugar melts, making the jam seem runnier than it really is.  Every now and then, put of a drop or two of the jam on the counter to test the viscosity.   When the jam is as thickened as you want it, it’s ready.  If it gets too thick, add a couple of tablespoons of water.

The oven timer rings.  Tasks complete.  Now what the hell am I going to do with myself for the whole day?  Ah ha!  She carelessly left me her copy of Sense and Sensibility.