Taking Tea

This has been a busy weekend and a half! On Saturday I got to witness the might of the Irish before hosting a baby shower (on two days notice) on Sunday.

Ms Peabody had arranged for a champagne tea for six in honour of her birthday. She had picked the Soho Hotel, which seems to be making quite a name for its Tea. It appears to be favoured by the fashion crowd, who seem to opt for it if they have high metabolisms, or for the "healthy" tea at the Metropolitan
if they don't. Pret-a-portea seems to be more popular with girls outside the fashion industry, but always amuses me. Personally, I'd like to try out the restaurant teas instead of the hotel ones. The teas at Mo Tea, Roka and Sketch sound particularly interesting. Much as I enjoy Tea, or any other excuse I can drum up for a cocktail at 2pm, there is only so far one can go with scones and pavlovas. Even sandwiches can be tricky to make exceptional without becoming hideously bad value.

The Soho Hotel was a strange experience on this occasion though. The entrance on Richmond Mews is referred to by the staff as "the back entrance" and involves cutting through the main restaurant. This is a practice I disagree with because I am a shameless people watcher. I realise this may sound contradictory since restaurant throughfares are condusive to people watching. The problem I have, as someone who deliberately sits with back to the masses when I can, is that it is incredibly distracting. Picture this: a group are sat at a table discussing the inevitable trials and tribulations of someone's love life. A stunning girl walks by, or perhaps a man in need of a stylist (this is London, the odds of those two happening are high. One of the common male pitfalls being continental fashion/American frame). A people watcher would probably pipe up with "whoa." at the very least, detracting from the conversation at the table. This is rude. I know this because I do it all the time and constantly feel bad for it. In any case, using a space characterised by conversation and the transportation of piping hot liquids for channeling groups of people seems decidedly ill advised.

Beyond the design flaw in the layout, there seems to have been a somewhat large gap in the training of the service staff. There were multiple instances where we waiting for around ten minutes for a drink, eye contact or a response. The staff were polite, but naïve. Saying "the bartender is very busy" is an honest but inexperienced response to "it's been quite awhile since my order of (a straightforward drink), when can I expect it?". The smaller slip ups were tolerable, like not setting up properly (missing wine glasses, tea strainers, milk), but not having available menus or a full service for the numbers seems foolish and lacklustre. Still, I discovered a new tea to cherish, the jasmine blossom tea. Apart from tasting great, it looked spectacular, with a spooky flower dominating the pot. I found this nigh on impossible to photograph, but this otherwise unexciting shot captured the blossom, almost:


They also obliged my request for an earl grey/lapsang souchong http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lapsang_souchong
blend, which I am grateful for. Anyhow, Tea is for Ladies, and it was the ladies who made the occasion.

Forget about the rugby, boy bands and hot accent. Ireland is all about its women. Apart from being an unusually attractive group, the girls were all intelligent and funny. Everyone was open minded and the conversation went down routes I hadn't fathomed. We talked about everything from Club Pedestal to whether it is just as bad to wear fur from an endangered animal or any animal (regardless of how bountiful the livestock may be) to Russell Brand (pro - humour, con - risk of disease) to Scientology. All that while drinking cocktails and eating cake. There cannot be many occasions better.

On Rememberance Sunday Casa Jamtam played host to Ms George's baby shower. The theme was American/English, and we celebrated with a tea that included a Victoria Sponge, Cupcakes, Pumpkin scones and lemon drizzle cake. Naomi at Vintage Secret did pretty much all the hard work, baking from scratch at six am to provide us not just with the vintage crockery and linens, but also teas imported from Paris and all this:


For favours, my friend's wife had baked green tea macaroons, which I bundled the macaroons into little baby socks and distributed with tea pigs for a take away afternoon tea:

All in all it was a hectic weekend. Amazingly I managed to lose two pounds over the weekend, despite spending the nights drinking copious amounts of champagne with the Hubs while eating cheese. Yum!