Post Non-Purchase Guilt?

New York's in a constant state of flux. That's an understatement - blink and you'll miss something. Why else would food trucks be such a rapidly expanding industry? (No, I don't have quotes from the Wall Street Journal; I have eyeballs.) Food trucks pop up all over the City, and at lunchtime their lines are long and healthy. If business is slow or threatened, they just move on to another location. They can adapt to change. So can I, to an extent. For example, when I hear another tea shop or tea room has opened, I plan a visit as soon as I can (well, except for Lady Mendl's. One of these years - literally.) These are good changes. What I don't like is the sudden closures of a number of tea businesses in the area - particularly Midtown.

I'd passed by the former location of Subtletea, and felt bad that I'd never really stopped there. I think once I picked up a cup of tea to go, but really, it wasn't in an area I tend to frequent. Besides, the one time I did do tea on that block was at Keko Cafe, which was perfectly nice but it's been almost four years.

Then I emerged from Grand Central Station, and the first thing I saw was the lack of the Tea and Honey store. What? Why? Then I remembered it had been some time since I'd picked up tea there, or anything for that matter. As much as I loved the place, it was not the most reasonable option. Even good quality tea should be affordable for the slightly ambitious tea conoisseur. And let's face it, the average person - commuter, tourist, or otherwise, doesn't care if some cute shop has great tea. Personally I hope they just plan to open elsewhere, Little Miss Matched disappeared from Grand Central, but there's other locations. That's just one example.

Then, even more shockingly, I found out TeaGschwender is no more - at least not in Manhattan. Sadly, I'd only visited the location once since it opened - less than a year ago. I've decided to blame it on the name. It sounds a bit like a sneeze, which nobody wants to associate with their cup of tea.

But I feel mildly responsible too. I mean, the economy's not that great, etc., but losing two tea retailers in such a short matter of time...places that were in quick walking distance from my workplace...perhaps I could have supported them a little better?

Is it because I drink coffee in the morning now?

Yes! I admit it!!! I became a morning coffee person! It actually started around my London trip, when I wanted to fight my jet lag with something stronger. I still love tea and tea rooms, and I always will, but my home and work supply doesn't need to be replenished as quickly. I mostly make tea at home still. My coffee-making skills leave something to be desired.

So...no. I will not feel guilty. I'm not a cold person, but business is business. This goes for me, too. I hope the tea-related businesses thrive in New York, and have yet to review my recent visit to the new Harney & Sons tea shop in Soho, but I'm not gonna feel bad for not blowing every paycheck on tea. I will, however, continue to report on places I think everyone should support. Some places need to remain as long as possible.

 

Gimme a Break!

There is nothing like a macaron-and-tea break to add some brightness to an otherwise dreary afternoon. Here we have a splendid cup of Mighty Leaf Darjeeling (because Darjeeling is the official sponsor of Afternoon Tea) and a banana and caramel macaron from Financier. The banana ganache is the stronger one, almost like banana pudding. It comes alive after biting into the crisp, flaky outside of the macaron.

Life's good when you can take a break from it from time to time.

Yet Another Great Place to Spoil Myself....Bosie Tea Parlor

When I read in the October 2010 Tea Time Magazine that a new tea room would be opening in the West Village that very fall, I was excited. One can never have too many tea destinations, and I was glad to have something to look forward to once I returned from my all-too-brief trip to London. I'd check online weekly to see when the opening day would be, and fall turned into winter, and winter dragged on forever, and finally spring came. Having been pretty busy in April, I hadn't checked in a while, and I was surprised to quite recently find out that Bosie Tea Parlor was already open!

That's a long wait in my opinion, though I'd say I'm a patient person. I've had to wait for a lot of things: trips, much-anticipated books, TV shows that take forever to get to the point. I'm still waiting on quite a few big things in my life, and am trying not to tap my foot in impatience. I can positively say, however, that Bosie was worth the delay.

I had a bit of time on my hands a few days ago, and I found myself in search of this elusive new tea room. I don't have the greatest head for direction, and south of 14th Street all bets are off. Thankfully, Bosie is just off of Bleecker, so my inner compass was in some working order.

Even so, the block it's on, Morton Street, feels a bit secluded and, well I was gonna say dark, but that could've just been the overcast weather. Still, upon entering I was greeted by the sight of all those colorful macarons and the one-woman staff (at least as far as I could see) who was the perfect combination of helpful and not all over the place.

 

As you can see by the picture, nothing is overly ornate or ostentatious. There are a few cozy chairs in the back, but they were occupied when I got there. It was earlier than usual for me: before noon, but though it wasn't lunch time crowded there were enough people there to give it energy. I got momentarily turned off when I saw at least three people using laptops, then realized what a hypocrite I was. I'm always looking for places that have wi-fi and are still charming. Here it was, and I was find fault with it! I didn't dwell on my shame: I got down to business, perusing the menu for the perfect experience.

As I've said often enough, my criteria is usually based on the quality, quantity and reasonability of a tea room's afternoon tea. Though I think it was called 'Standard Tea' on the menu, it's the same thing, only without the three-tired dishes. Instead, you get this:

 

Am I complaining? Oh no! It was a feast fit for a Tea Queen, or anyone else for that matter. Well, maybe not a lumberjack but, besides one reasonably built middle-aged man, I don't think they're aiming for the burly clientele.

I had three kinds of sandwiches: the first was like a Coronation, with chicken and curry and raisins. Quite nice. The cheddar and pickle was perfect; reminded me of one of Teany's better sandwiches. The tour de force, however, was the cucumber sandwich. I'm not sure what they put in there, but it's the best cucumber sandwich I've ever tasted. And I've had some really decent ones. Bosie's has a special kind of cream cheese, I think; almost like a cottage cheese but a bit more whipped. I'm breathless just thinking about them.

There were two little scones that were cakey but dry enough to be a proper scone. The clotted cream was exactly what it should be. I got two tea cakes, a chocolate (with chips) and a lemon, both of which were finger sized but sweet and satisfying.

What distinguishes Bosie from the tea places I've been to is the macarons. Since Bosie is supposed to have some Parisien tea room influence, this is just right. I'll admit I've only spent 6 hours of my life in Paris, but Bosie's atmosphere and menu seem to fit my imagined ideal of the kind of place I'd settle into after a morning in the Louvre or shopping. I know I've totally stereotyped Paris there but at least there were no berets in the sight of my mind's eye. Rusty! (who knows that reference?) Anyway, I had a matcha macaron and a jasmine, both of which I chose for the tea theme. They were both good, though the jasmine's flavor was a bit more Lush than Laduree for me.

Oh yeah, the tea. I had the Dorian Grey (Bosie is a reference to Wilde, I think, so I couldn't resist), and it was okay but not very strong. Maybe all the other flavors at my table overwhelmed it, but that's not usually the case.

I'm very happy to have a new tea destination, and one whose sandwiches instead of the price are swoonworthy. I am aching to return, and to bring a friend or two, and to try more items on the menu. Good things come to those who wait!

Unabashedly Anglophile

Last weekend I indulged in one of my infamous "mini-trips" to England. I never left New York, but it kinda felt like I did.

Yes, I woke up at the crack of dawn to watch the wedding. Had a strong cup of English Breakfast tea to sustain me through the inevitable jet lag. I'm not going into detail about my thoughts on the wedding: the media covered it enough. But when I was presented with a free Sunday, I was still on the Brit kick, so I went to the Frick.

For years I've wanted to see the Frick Collection, on 70th Street on the East Side. My frugal side didn't want to pay the $18 admission, and the only pay-what-you-like time is Sunday between 11 AM and 1 PM. That's almost impossible for me, or at least it was, because there's an exception to every rule. So a friend of mine accompanied me to the museum, and I don't think either of us were disappointed. I got to see enough Vermeer and Rembrandt (the latter had a special exhibit of drawings in the lower lovel) to last me a while, setting off an alarm in the process. What do you want? I'm short sighted! Though the Frick is not necessarily English, it's a mini-trip I was after, and this was close enough to a mini-National Gallery. Instead of exiting at Trafalgar Square, we got Central Park.

We walked up quite an appetite, and took the train down to 14th Street, to our next destination: the ultra-anglophilic Tea and Sympathy. You probably don't need to hear my thoughts on this place; I've covered it often enough. And then some. But here's a few snaps anyway:

 

 

It was my friend's initiation into Afternoon Tea, and predictably she was delighted. The clotted cream was the ultimate pleasure...unmatchable!

 

Royal Wedding Menu!

 

Picked up a few things at Myers of Keswick, including the elusive Strongbow Cider. It's conveniently located a few blocks from Tea and Sympathy, so if you're still hankering for cornish pasties or real Cadbury's or even Fairy dishwashing liquid, here's your spot. We also got to meet Molly the Cat, who was in the news a few years back for getting stuck between the building walls or some other catlike scrape. She didn't seem at all traumatized; in fact, she was real friendly and playful.

A mildly defensive note: I don't care at all for politics, so my interest in all things British is not an attitude of superiority. I know better. It's just an unexplainable 'thing'. We all have those 'things'. There's a market for it. There's probably an app for it too.

Well, that weekend is over and another one awaits. I don't think I'm doing anything particularly English besides watching another series of Lark Rise to Candleford. I'll have some book reviews and pairings in that vein coming as well.

Questionable Returns

I've been noticing a rather annoying pattern lately. Sometimes I give a glowing, or at least positive review of a tea place or shop that I've visited, only to find that one of the next times I go there I regret it. I'll start with the most recent, and the most hopeful.

Coco Fresh Tea and Juice: Still love their bubble tea, but found that their service is becoming slower. Also, the green tea I ordered was pretty bad, like it hadn't been mixed properly. I had to add extra ice from work and stir in a second cup, which kind of defeats the point of the packaging. I went there with my sister this week, though, and she had no complaints about her order this time, so though I'll proceed with caution, I'm leaning toward forgiveness in this one.

Argo: This happened a while back, but I went to the Flatiron Argo and hoped to return. Then I went to the one near Columbus Circle. My first time there was fine, but the second time, something happened that I probably shouldn't take personally, but hey, I'm sensitive. I saw everyone in front and in back of me being offered a frequent visitor card, including my friend who was less of a regular than I was, but when it was my turn the service was somewhat sullen, and they didn't offer me a card, despite my being as pleasant as possible. I know it's not the biggest deal, and I'm not gonna cry 'boycott!' but it just rubbed me the wrong way. I figure since they don't have a branch in the immediate vicinity of my place of work, I just won't make the effort to visit them when I am in the area. I'll go to Starbucks instead. Yes.

Art Brown: My mention of this place here was a few years ago, and usually I go there without incident, but something happened two weeks ago that set off my Spongebob Crankypants.

I usually look forward to going here, with all its marvelous pens, papers and gorgeous inks. When they moved from 46th to 45th street and I thought that it had actually closed for good, I nearly wore mourning garb.

It's hard to share my enthusiasm with others..."you paid how much for that pen?" so you can imagine my excitement when my sister Bon accompanied me to this shop. She's more of a pencil person, but I thought I might be able to convert her (no pen intended) by showing her the small selection of Platinum Plaisir fountain pens, available in pink and violet. I sang the praises of the violet one that I own: for only $20, this pen is practically perfect and writes so smoothly. So, Bon goes to test the pen (it's not pricey enough to keep in the display cases), but as she didn't see the tester paper right away she tested it on a nearly bit of cardboard. Now it's not like there was ink in it, and knowing my sister, she doesn't press hard enough to damage the nib, but one of the men working there sees her and says in a scolding tone, "Don't do that." It was a real deal breaker. After that she put the pen down and waited outside for me to purchase my inks.



Now I'm stuck with a dilemma. Sure, I can order inks and other pen-related products online (Jet Pens has a bigger selection of the Plaisirs,) and there's a Joon Pens nearby (though their ink supply is not quite so voluminous.) But the way the man talked to my sister really put a bad taste in my mouth. At least in the cases of Coco and Argo, the service wasn't horrible, just a little off. In the case of Art Brown, it felt like we were being treated like children. And that makes this the roughest pill to swallow. I've spent more money than I should've in this place, and given glowing recommendations. In that one sentence, though, I've become completely turned off. But it's annoying to have to pull a self-imposed exile on principle. And the man who rang me up was polite, and has been helpful in the past. I guess I'll give this one a little time and see how I feel. I know my sister won't be returning.

Rant over for today, I can be my smiling self now.

Still Here!

I started this blog on 19 April 2005 with the title "Here I Am!" Thought it needed a brief mention. Stay tuned...rant coming soon!

Bubbling Over in Midtown

It's spring, but you could have fooled me! Still, the calendar says that it'll be warmer soon. I shall try to believe it.

One thing the area around my job was sorely missing was a proper bubble tea place. Actually, we don't have a decent tea anything nearby besides a couple of decent retail establishments in walking distance. I don't count hotels, because one does not take afternoon tea in the space of an hour's lunch break.

I'm not the biggest bubble tea person, but once in a while I get a hankering, especially when the weather's a bit balmy. Now I have a little place to satisfy said hankerings, and I won't even have to break a sweat.

It's called Coco Fresh Tea and Juice, and I believe it's a chain from Taiwan. The two times my sister and I stopped in there, it was already hopping but not crazy busy. Everyone else inside was Asian, and mostly thinner than myself (how is that possible?!), which seem to be points in favor of it.

So far I've tried the black milk tea and a jasmine milk tea, both of which were absolutely refreshing and delicious. Personally I prefer these without the bubbles (tapioca pearls) - not because they taste bad but the chewiness gets tiresome after a while. Plus, I keep thinking one of them will shoot through the straw down my wind pipe. But this is my neurosis.

Everything's reasonably priced, especially for Manhattan. So I welcome this open.


Side note (Funny Name): I also had a bubble tea with crepes in Forest Hills not long ago. This too was fine, but the name's unfortunate: Crepes 'N' Tearia. Imodium anyone?

Freddie & Me... and Me

First of all, let me just say there is still good reason for paper books and libraries. I regularly put books on hold, and when they arrive I pick them up at the nearest branch to my place of work. It's very convenient, as I used to actually travel to different branches and between Queens and Manhattan, and that's exhausting!
Well, recently I was picking up some books in the reserved section and saw the title of a book that was on hold for someone else. Nosy me picked it up. The title was Freddie and Me: A Coming of Age (Bohemian) Rhapsody. Now of all the book-related websites I've been on, including Amazon which loves to Recommend books you Might Like, I'd never heard of this book. Good job we still have paper books and brick-and-mortar locations, or I'd still be unaware. And what a book for me not to know about!

Second of all, something not everyone knows about me is that I actually like Graphic Novels. It's not my favorite genre, but I do have a tiny collection in my home library. I haven't bought a comic book in years, because I think they're overpriced, but once they're grouped together in a book I'll give it a shot. It's like not watching a TV show when it's aired, but waiting till the DVD of the season is out in the summer. And since I do enjoy curling up with the occasional autobiography, it's great to see both forms of expression come together. But we're not referencing Beatles songs here; today it's all about Queen.

Though the artist/writer, Mike Dawson, became a rapid Queen fan earlier in his life than I did, I related too well to the madness that ensues once you get far too fond of a band. And just like Queen songs became a soundtrack to his formative years, I can't think of my mid-teens without hearing Freddie Mercury's voice - even some of the more ridiculous tracks are there, and in this book. I cracked up when he reacts to a certain word in 'Death on Two Legs'. It's not as much of a shocker as it used to be, which makes it all the more affecting.

I was also surprised at Dawson's memories of memory itself. That's hard to explain. Personally, I've always been a little afraid of forgetting early memories, and resolved not to at a very young age. Then I read this line in his book:

"The reason I can still remember being afraid of losing my memories is because I made a conscious decision to do so. I remember the day I was doing it."

And then he goes on to explain how he pictures things to remember them. Catherine much? It makes me wonder if Queen fans are all cut from the same cloth. Sadly, I cannot draw, unless you count that horrible blob of Zenobia I scribble on pages from time to time.

I'm not sure if non-Queen fans would appreciate Freddie & Me, but if you favor the Bildungsroman stories you might. And if you don't know what that word means, you're not alone. I've never heard it spoken, but any word that has 'dung' in it is worth knowing. (And if you don't like it, you could say it's full of crap!)

I only have one criticism, and it's only because I'm an extreme stickler for dates. He has his teenaged self going to school the day he finds out about Freddie Mercury having AIDS, as well as the next day when he dies. My recollections of November 1991are extremely clear - it was a really important month in my life. And those dates fall on Saturday and Sunday. But he can draw, and I can't, so...artistic license I guess.

So what kind of tea would I sip with this book? Well, I know Freddie Mercury was a tea drinker, but the only specific type of tea I've ever read about in reference to him was an anecdote in which he drank jasmine tea. And I don't need an excuse to drink jasmine scented green tea!

Henrietta Sees it Through and a Pairing

This is the review I posted on Library Thing:

Reading stories written in epistolary form makes me yearn for the old letter writing days, though I don't think I'd have been thrilled to live in England during the last years of WWII. This book is a sequel to the first series of letters, which I haven't read, but I picked up the pace quickly enough.

It's a combination of tongue-in-cheek and stiff-upper-lip that only the English can master. Henrietta is a middle-aged doctor's wife. She is not the most conventional woman but she tries to carry on amidst the ridiculousness of wartime. She tends faithfully to a garden, puts up with evacuees and difficult neighbors, and finds solace in her friendship with the wonderfully full-figured and elderly Lady B.

It's my second Bloomsbury Group Early Reviewers book, and this one did not disappoint either. Even though there is some tragedy here and there, and a harrowing story of a cat and a mouse that echoed my own trials of last week, every letter ends on a cheeky high note.

From what I've read, the Henrietta stories were semi-autobiographical, a way for the author to cope herself. Hope it helped.


I finished this book last week, and in trying to think of a tea that would pair well with it today I kept coming up with herbals, since that's all I've been drinking due to a nasty head cold. Then I remembered a humourously illustrated scene in the book where a woman is bring an Evacuee staying at her home Blackcurrant Tea because they had a cold. She ended up taking a nasty spill on the stairs, ending up in a 'Crumpled Heap'. I'd hate to think of what happened to the teacup. So in sympathy to all involved, I'd say a nice Blackcurrant would do quite well, whether it's a black flavored or a tisane.

In Astoria? In which I mention many local businesses...

I passed by the site of the former Himalayan Tea House, the place that had a decent menu but not much else, not to mention crazy hours. I don't miss it like I thought I would. Besides, with places like Bare Burger and Il Bambino right there, I almost didn't notice it was gone. Even so, its absence has especially impressed in me the need for a proper tea place in Astoria. Now when I say Astoria, I am referring to my neck of the woods, near the heart of Steinway Street, a quick walk from Woodside and Long Island City.

Speaking of which, Cafe Triskell (best crepes in town and a nice tea menu) and Panera Bread are close to my criteria, but they're straddling LIC, and Martha's Bakery is bit of a walk away for me on a rainy day. Gian Piero's is nearby, but for me that's strictly to go; some of the clientele are dirty old mannish. And therein is another problem with my area: they're either patronised by hipsters or men who just make me feel uncomfortable. So what's the compromise? Starbucks? I'm not anti-Starbucks, even so, it's Starbucks.

There are other places I like in roll-out-of-bed walking distance from me, but they lean toward brunch and full-on meals, and I wouldn't feel comfortable just getting tea and cake if that's all I wanted. Is that just me being insecure? Maybe a little. But speaking of which, there's still a few surviving diners/coffee shops nearby, but heaven forfend you come alone - it's the counter for you! I loathe dining at the counter, especially alone.

So what's the solution? Can someone open a little place near me that would satisfy my tea needs? It really doesn't have to be frilly - that's also intimidating...not for me, but I'd like a good variety of people to be comfortable in this mythical place. Something like the former Shane's Bakery in Woodside. They had scones, people! It was like the Irish Tea and Sympathy. Why did it close?! Even if it was still open, it was still to far away from me.

I guess this post is a bit of a rant, with a touch of daydreaming. You just can't have it all. I mean, I waited for years for someone to open bookstore/cafe in my neighborhood, and with the closing of a bunch of Borders, this looks less possible than ever. I will sigh now, and wait patiently for suggestions/recommendations.

Cozy Mondays? and a Pairing

After a relatively busy and responsible weekend, I decided to have a relaxing Monday in. One bonus is that finally it snowed on a day off! It wasn't a crazy snow day, but I'll use it as an excuse to be indoors and cozy.

It started off quite well. I caught up on some reading, and then I popped in a Sherlock Holmes (Jeremy Brett) DVD to watch an episode I hadn't managed to watch in years. So far, so good. Then I noticed Zenobia stalking a corner and I knew the end of relaxation was nigh. If it had been a waterbug, I would have screamed of course, but it would've been quick work. But a smart bug in trouble would've climbed up the wall to get away. Nope. It was a not too smart little mouse that put me through a wild ride, and was later to give a run for a supportive friend's money too. Let's just say it was not a pretty sight, and I got to demonstrate my awesome screaming skills. I know none of this rests with reason: I live with two much larger creatures every day, and Zenobia's the same color of the dearly deceased critter, complete with claws. Anyway, the whole fracas cost me at least three hours of my cozy day.

Holmes ended up being therapy afterwards, and put me in mind of a book I read this month, The Sherlockian by Graham Moore. A new member of an exclusive Sherlock Holmes fan club investigates a murder of another member, who just happened to have recently announced he'd found the lost Arthur Conan Doyle diary. This plot takes turns in chapters with an investigation Doyle gets involved in at the time of the missing diary, along with his friend Bram Stoker, who hasn't yet found fame with a certain horror novel that didn't require glitter. Jeremy Brett was mentioned once, which was enough reason to keep on going. People who both enjoy Sherlock Holmes stories or are avid fans of any writer would likely have fun with this book. I mentioned this in another review, but I'll repeat it here: there was a conversation between a man and a woman about the nostalgic fascination with past times. I've watched episodes of Brett's Holmes and drooled over his study and the morning coats along with the clip clopping of the horses on the cobblestone and yearned to experience that time period for myself. The point raised in the novel I'd considered myself: it wouldn't have been as fun for a woman. You'd have to wear corsets and put your hair in those updos...if you're fortunate you might be Mrs. Hudson!

The tea I'd pair with The Sherlockian is (obviously?) the Baker Street Blend from Upton. It's made from a few different black teas, including Lapsang Souchong. Normally I don't like Lapsang Souchong, but in a blend it's just right. Normally I'm cautious about Sherlock Holmes pastiches, but The Sherlockian is only slightly so.



After a nervewracking game of Caths and Mouse, however, I might just settle down with a cup of peppermint tea.

Pairings

I'm an indoor person, though I like my nice long walks. This time of year I am even more firmly ensconced, curled up on a sofa as far away from the piles of snow as I can get...whenever I can help it. Time to catch up on my reading! And what better accompaniment to a good book than a soothing cup of tea.

Though I'm not the ultimate wine or even tea pairing expert, I like to think every book has its perfect tea match. I haven't done too many book reviews here recently, so I thought I'd kick start it once again with a tea/book pairing series.




The Brontes Went to Woolworth had gone out of print for a while, but was reissued last year. I'm glad it was. Though certainly not the most realistic plot I've ever come across, it was really charming. It centers around three sisters, who develop whole stories around imaginary friends. These friends are mostly real people who they've read about in newspapers, or saw in a role of public office. They develop their own little fan fictions around these people, mostly for the benefit of the youngest daughter.

As a middle child of an imaginative family of three sisters, I felt right at home with the Carnes. I'm not sure everyone would be comfortable with the idea of how believable their made-up acquaintances were to them (though some were, in fact, living breathing people, as we get further reminding of as the story goes on.) I loved it, because in a way I can identify. As a child, I saw a photo of a bank president, gave him a whole new name and pretended he was my husband. It's a mystery to me why I chose him, but that made the Carnes so relatable to me. Those who can't relate could commiserate with the poor governess, who just doesn't understand what's going on, and why the girls indulge themselves in fantasy to that degree. For a moment, actually, the point of view threw me off, as it began with Deidre's (the middle girl) first person, then occasionally moved to third with Miss Martin and others. After a while I got into the swing of things.

The story gave an answer to a number of "what ifs" I confronted when transitioning from childhood into adulthood. Also, without giving away any spoilers, coming from a less innocent time, I almost suspected something sleazy would occur between the daughters and the object of their imaginings. I'm quite glad I was wrong.

A highly lighthearted but not entirely sugarcoated read.

As one of the sisters' real life imaginary friends was a judge they affectionately called 'Toddy', I recommend a hot tea toddy, perfect for a cold winter's day and with just enough kick of rum to add to the whimsy of it all. If you're a teetotaller, you might try a nursery tea, with lots of milk and sugar.

Royaltea

I've known about the Orangery for years and years, and knew that I'd have to get over there for Afternoon Tea someday. You'd think I would have found a way to make time for such a visit, but there was always some reason or other for not being able to make it. I wouldn't say lack of funds - I specifically budget for tea breaks wherever I go. When you get down to it, though, I'd say that it was just too close to the Muffin Man, and while you can't go to both places in one day (you can't!), it's also not feasible to "do" Kensington twice in one trip.

Amazing what a little determination will do...

The Orangery is a separate building, but part of Kensington Palace; a tea room derived from a former orangery. I wish I knew where they got the name from...

For those of you who are into the Royal thing, Queen Victoria grew up in Kensington Palace, and Princess Diana lived there. The Orangery was designed for Queen Anne, the last of the Stuart monarchs. A very Queenly place - even Freddie Mercury worked a few blocks down from there! It made sense to go there directly after a morning in the Victoria and Albert Museum.

They were doing renovations in the palace, but in other sections of the edifice there was an Enchanted Palace attraction set up. I'm sure it was lovely. Personally, I thought the little pathways from the palace to the tea room had their own enchantments...

 

 

From the outside, my first thought was ORANGE...though I didn't exactly feel like I'd stumbled into Florida - even if the weather was still perfectly mild. Upon entering, we were simply drenched in white...everything's white...it's almost too pristine. It's a good thing there's no dress code, or it would be kind of intimidating. I mean, I enjoy dressing up for tea, and I wouldn't want to look sloppy or anything, but perfection has its limits in these situations.

 

 

Bonnie had the Signature Orange Tea, while I opted for the Enchanted Palace Tea. Looking back, I'd say Bonnie made the better choice. You get about the same amount of food, but the desserts are different. She had an eclair and a tart, and I had a shortbread and a rich chocolate cake. My choice was an extra three pounds, and the only real difference was my digestion crisis on the bus a half hour later. But that's the only negative I'm going to say about our experience. Contrasted with the tea at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which in terms of ambiance was the closest comparison, the Orangery actually leaves you satisfied. We managed to bop around a bit later on before actually feeling signs of hunger, whereas after the Met Tea we were ravenous before we left the museum. The staff were friendly - our waiter was from Togo; I don't think I'd ever met anyone from Togo before. The scones were delightful, the sandwiches plentiful, and the desserts were all just wonderful. No complaints about the Darjeeling, either.

I'd go back.

 

 

Blue skies! Still can't get over it.

 

Three months later, I'm almost done with my London 2010 coverage. I plan to include clips from the camcorder that died halfway through the trip, and The Orangery will definitely be featured.

Tate

Of the four main museums this time around, this is the only one I hadn't been to previously. It's not that I didn't want to go before, but there's only so much time, and its location looked so isolated on the map. I'm not against a little commuting, but I need some semblance of schedule!

I'm finding more and more that tube maps are deceiving. They make Pimlico seem further than it is. I decided to brave the supposed long commute, as I'd heard that Tate Britain's Pre-Raphaelite collection was outstanding. Bonnie came along for the ride, though at this point she was fading fast from the combination of a head cold and the temperature finally dropping to London's normal autumnal rates. She kept going with the promise of Wagamama directly after the museum.

First of all, the commute wasn't that long. The walk from the tube station was only slightly lengthy, and we got to see a section of London we'd never seen before.

Let's get the negative out of the way first. The section I'd wanted to see the most, with the majority of the Pre-Raphaelites, was closed for some repairs or Grand Scheme to Disappoint Catherine - take your pick. So it wasn't all grand for me, but there were quite a few unexpected surprises, and mild coincidences.

Beyond a cursory glance at a guidebook, I wasn't sure what was included in Tate's collection, so I was open to pleasant surprises. Here's the first one:

 

Okay, this painting is probably hard to get from the photograph (and I wasn't sure it photography was allowed, so I was covert all the way), but it's called The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke, and was painted by Richard Dadd. Ironically, he was committed to Bedlam after confessing to the murder of his father. Apparently he was a paranoid schizophrenic, but also a recognized talent, and this painting was done while in the hospital.

Dadd's story and his work is interesting (and kind of disturbing) enough, but my connection to this work is that the band Queen named one of their songs after it; and the song is a bit erratic and odd, so now I see the connection. Dadd's poem about the painting seems to share similar lyric to Freddie Mercury's. I've also heard rumors that Mr. Dick of Dickens's David Copperfield is loosely based on Richard Dadd (his full name is similar, too.) Conversely, I read that the characters on the painting may have pictured people in the novel. Chicken or egg, it's still intriguing, considering the fact that it's one of the books of 2010! (Coming sooner or later, my 2010 Books Reviewed...)

Speaking of books, I know that I don't spend a lot of time reading while I'm away. Still, I can't help trying to match books with my trip, and exuberantly picking a few volumes, bravely fitting these inside my luggage. I might regret this when the trip's over and I've barely turned any pages, but I actually managed to make a dent in two books. One of them was Chatterton by Peter Ackroyd. It's not his most well known work, but I'd picked this book up not long after I'd posed for a photo in tribute to the painting 'The Death of Chatterton' by Henry Wallis. I know, it sounds kind of creepy, but hey, it worked for George Meredith, the model for the actual painting, who lived a long life as a writer.

The actual Thomas Chatterton, was rather fascinating. He produced what he called long lost writings from a medieval monk, and people were actually convinced for a bit. His body of work is impressive, especially considering the fact that he was only seventeen years old when he died. Some say he committed suicide, and others believe he accidentally overdosed. Either way, his life, death, and work inspired future poets like Keats and Coleridge, and even Oscar Wilde (wow, I almost burst out in a Smiths song there.) I mean when you get down to it, his death was highly romanticized, but I tend to fall prey to that sensibility here and there. So reading a novel based on this person, and those involved in the famous painting, and mostly took place in London, seemed to fit. And then, what do you know? Look what's in the Tate:

 

 

I think I must have read somewhere that the painting was here, but I was so concerned with painters like Turner, Rossetti, and Millais (whose famous Ophelia, also a death scene, I posed for on the same day as the Chatterton, and whose statue stands right outside Tate Britain), that I'd put this particular work to the back of my mind. Well, that's okay. I like little surprises.

 

V&A

When preparing for my trip to London in October, I brought an autumn coat, figuring it was going to be chilly. I'd only had my 2000 trip to gauge the weather for that time of year, and during that trip it'd been kind of nippy. Though I was pleasantly surprised (and would give a good deal to have similar weather on a day like today), it wasn't the worst thing that one of my favorite activities does not belong to any season. Because even when the hottest day of the year makes a tea room seem uninviting, a museum is climate controlled! (Usually)

Bonnie and I visited four museums in one week, and we possibly could have done more. But the skies were blue, and it would have been a shame to miss all that outdoor time.

The Victoria and Albert Museum (or V&A) is a powerhouse of decorative arts. There are collections of paintings, statues, tilework, textiles, furniture, and costumes from all over the world, throughout the centuries. Which means that it's kind of overwhelming to try to take it all in in just one morning. We tried, though!

Incidentally, the V&A has a great gift shop. Of course, the stuff I'd like to own from the museum is on a look, don't touch, and certainly don't take basis. Here's a few of them:

 

I just thought this was apropos: Apollo and the Muses

 

They don't make men's clothes like they used to...

 

Do I even have to caption this? Wish the lighting was better.

 

Elizabethan Claviorgan. Even if you can't play it, it'd look gorgeous in anyone's living room. Probably wouldn't fit most people's living rooms.

Pub

When people go out for a drink with me, I suppose they assume it's gonna be something hot, in pretty china cups, and there might even be lace involved. Of course I'm never one to turn down such an outing.

But this particular Saturday in London, I'd already done the tea thing, and the museum thing...I was kind of done with my regular things. It's after dark, we're hungry so what's two girls and their cousin and wife gonna do in London? Well, we thought we'd try The Sherlock Holmes, a pub/restaurant near Charing Cross (after getting out of the station, you go through some very Holmesian small streets and there it is), but sadly it was still a Saturday night and the restaurant required reservations. Though technically we're tourists, and I'm not against doing some touristy things per se, we didn't want to go anywhere that screams "I've just spend the day taking pictures of Big Ben and I have twenty phone box tchotchkes in this shopping bag!" So we took the middle road, and found a pub called Lord Moon of the Mall that suited us just fine.

Though it was busy, we found a nice table in the back of the back room, and settled in. Then we sorted out the business of ordering food. The menu offered a good amount of choices, including items like burgers that come with a complimentary pint. Not bad. So you give your order at the bar. Now this is the part I find daunting. I've always found bars intimidating, because you have to get someone's attention over a loud crowd of thirsty patrons. I'm hopelessly soft-spoken. Situations like that make me feel like a little mouse in the corner of a dog's poker game (who came up with those paintings?) But I was hungry, and Bonnie was just starting to come down with the ailment that afflicted her throughout our stay, so I manned up.

The next step is, they serve the drinks and the bar. You carry them to your table and wait for them to bring your food. We all ended up wanting fish and chips, which thankfully did not disappoint. I didn't get beer. I hate beer. In fact, if you can find a beer that I'd actually like, the next round would be on me. Until then, I got Strongbow Cider. I'd never had this before; usually when I'm out and want cider I find Magner's, which is fine, but I'm always up for something new to me. And now I'm on the lookout for Strongbow in New York - I'm sure it's here somewhere.

Maybe we were just there on a good day, but for a place that's just down the road from Trafalgar Square, Lord Moon did not have a terribly touristy vibe. I spotted quite a few patrons that seemed to be regulars, reading their newspaper, not a tour guide, with a pint. It felt like a place people could go to and make themselves at home, though I have very little to compare with. I've been to so few real English pubs, especially the ones that could truly be deemed "locals", that I'm afraid I have little authority on these matters. Still, I do know what it's like to be in tourist traps (I work near Grand Central Station and close enough to Times Square)and I didn't have that itchy feeling here. We were completely relaxed, and spent hours just talking amongst our dinner, and later dessert. I had sticky toffee pudding, something you only see in NY in places like Tea and Sympathy. This sweet tooth loved it. And, by the way, the prices were really reasonable, something one seldom finds in London.

The bathrooms were downstairs and eerily cavernous. I expected to turn a corner and find Guy Fawkes plotters (obligatory history reference).




A few snaps:

 

The Before Picture.

 

How could I not feel at home here? This looks like my apartment; just add HP sauce.

 

Cousins! A frameable portrait.

 

Can you spot Big Ben and the Wheel? View from the block of Lord Moon

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Muffin Man!

Obviously I'm still blogging about London, and nothing but. I'll probably be on this kick for a while (or until I run out of pictures, which will take some time.) Surprisingly, so far I've made little mention of my tea experiences on this trip, and there's a reason for that. I didn't sit around drinking tea the entire time I was there. No, we moved around a lot, and on the more jet-laggy days I even drank coffee (shock!) Of course there were some amazing moments of relaxing with a requisite spot of tea, and here's one of those moments.

There are many places to take tea in London. Duh. The same goes for New York, really, but they've had it down to a science for centuries, where in my hometown its history is more of a love/hate relationship. So it's hard when I get my rare few days every 3-5 years or so to pick places to take tea in my second favorite city ever. I've had suggestions, and ideas for next time (whenever that is). So the plan goes this way: pick an old favorite, and try one new (to me) place. If I can do more than that, great. If not, fine.

Now if I had only one hour to spend in any part of London, it would likely be in Covent Garden. After that, it would be The Muffin Man. It represents to me all that it cozy in Kensington. It's simple, not overpriced, they're generous with the clotted cream, and the scones are THE BEST IN THE WORLD!!!!!!!! Oh, and the tea's good too. They have a small selection of teas, but it's satisfying.

Mind you, I've had not-as-good scones there. It seems this happens every other time. So Visit 1: Amazing, Visit 2: Average, Visit 3: Exquisite, Visit 4: Okay...I think this was Visit 5. Do the math; it was wonderful.

I plan to post a short video of our visit there, but until then, here are some pics. We'd just come from wandering in Holland Park, and it was the ideal next move. Or not move; just staying put for a while.

 

It was open!

 

We had "our table"...the one I've felt most at home with since my first time in 1998. It has the view of Wrights Lane, which is right off of Kensington High Street, and the tube station.

 

The scones, in all their homemade goodness.

 

Sheep

In the course of our week in London, it was Chocolate Week and Wool Week. How can you keep up with all these special weeks when they want to overlap each other? Well, you can eat a surfeit of Cadbury bars whilst cozying up in a nice woolen sweater, I suppose.

Savile Row, known all over the world for men's bespoke tailoring, got down to their roots during the Monday of our visit. They wanted to promote buying real British wool products, I think. This means that Bonnie and I had the luxury of seeing real live sheep without having to bus it to the countryside. Not that I don't like the English countryside, but you see there's only so much one can do with a week!


All we needed was a piglet to turn this into "Babe" (well, some singing mice might help):

 

Ram!

 

The good shepherd,and his loyal napping sheepdogs:

 

 

By Any Other Name

You don't take the subway if you want to get on a train in London. You take the tube, or the underground, or maybe a train. Aside from that, a commute's a commute. There will always be crowds, rude people, service interruptions, and annoying transfers. On my rare visits to London, of course, I tend to travel during the less populated times of the day when I can. It doesn't make the move from point A to B endearing, but at least the various place names and different ads help it along.


Oh, and rest assured you will burn calories if you need to transfer to other lines. It's a massive system!

One question: what happened to the Cadbury machines? They used to be the highlight of my ride. And why did I get a cavity anyway?

 

 

 

 

Chillin' with my Holmesey!!!