The rustle of starched organdie napery, the clink of silver in translucent porcelain, the fragrance of coffee brewing, the sweet perfume of vanilla, the savoury aroma of frying… I think of all these when I remember my mother’s coffee mornings. And bemoan their passing. She was the Field Marshal of operations and so everything fell into place at the right time. Now I think no one has the time for socialising during the day, nor the expertise and infrastructure required for hosting it. Young women I speak to have this constant lament: their linen lies unused, gathering dust and yellowing at the folds; and there’s no help, so who’s going to starch and bleach, who’s going to wash long-unused china the day before, who’s going to fry hot rissoles and fish fingers while guests are coming to the table.
Her tea was special. First of all, even the daily cuppa was brewed just so, in a silver pot for her, and in a Gibson, of red Staffordshire clay, for my father. When she had the girls over, sometimes she’d make a special orange-spiced tea in a clear glass Jena pot, with a long spout and elegantly curved handle. To this day, I regret how my father found and bought me an identical one and I let it be washed by a klutz. It was broken irreparably.
Entertaining over tea and coffee was probably a legacy of our colonial past. As times and mores change, so do these rituals. According to the Larousse Gastronomique , tea is “A light meal in the afternoon, at which sandwiches, pastries, cakes, etc., are served with tea. A rather more substantial meal is high tea (or meat tea), which is taken particularly in the north of England, where the evening meal is replaced by tea served with cold meat, fish, salads etc., as well as buttered rolls, toast, cakes, etc.”
Tea and scones
But the latter is another story, to which we were introduced by Enid Blyton. “Afternoon tea taken at five o’clock was launched by the Duchess of Bedford in about 1830 (at that time lunch was served quite early and dinner was served late). It provided an opportunity to display tea services made of porcelain or silver plate, to create recipes for cakes, biscuits (cookies) etc. and to lay down rules of etiquette associated with the occasion (the correct way in which to hold the cup, put down the spoon, etc.). An English tea sometimes includes savoury canapés but the most common items are bread-and-butter, scones, muffins, crumpets.. cakes, biscuits, gingerbread, and shortbread, with jams and jellies, lemon curd, etc.”
Sometimes, when I was home for the holidays, I accompanied my mother to her friends’ teas. They baked interesting cakes and cookies, they made delicate sandwiches, and their tables were beautiful. Today, I meet friends at the local coffee shop; everyone’s watching their weight and so we ask for several forks and share one slice of cake. If that. I’ve never invited anyone over for coffee. That we’re all working is a bit of an excuse. But one social responsibility I didn’t shirk for years was a tea party for the children on their birthdays.
Preparations would start at least a week in advance. One trip to buy the essentials: streamers and balloons; return gifts and wrapping paper, wafer chips; paper napkins and plates. Eventually I “invested” in a few dozen plastic plates. Then, a day in advance, The Cake would be baked. And every time, it had to be different. So, a sunflower one year, a butterfly another. Chocolate logs were still modish, so that. One year, my mother drove to Delhi with the makings of a teddy bear cake for my son. It had liquorice whiskers and Nutties—chocolate-coated buttons—for eyes and a navel.
For one of my own birthdays, half a century ago, she made a chocolate covered wall and sat a Humpty Dumpty upon it. That was a family enterprise because my father made a small hole in a raw egg to drain out the contents, and then he painted on a face and devised paper trousers and a jacket. With the tip of a knife, he etched out bricks on the wall and an asparagus frond was attached, pretending to be a creeper. In my time, all I did was chivvy up the father of the house to blow balloons and attach them wherever he could. I would spend the morning icing The Cake—and stashing it in a safe spot on my overcrowded refrigerator—and the afternoon making hundreds of sandwiches on the dining table, newspapers spread far and wide to catch crumbs.
I learnt over the years to make sandwiches quite efficiently. I would make a vast bowl of filling, one that included butter, cream or mayonnaise and spread them thickly. Edges were cut off several layers at a time. But while the children were really small, all they ate was the chips. The rest—sandwiches, aloo tikkis and chana bhaturas—was more for the mothers and attendant maids.
So today, when I hear that children’s birthday parties are held in fast food restaurants, I empathise. When mine were small, noodles had just come into fashion. But I held firm against them. Today, if children only want burgers, hot dogs and pizza, and the establishment also provides entertainment, who can blame parents who hold the happy celebration there. No more magic shows, passing-the-parcel and treasure hunts. Now, there are adventure games and science-oriented shows. There are event managers now for children’s parties.
SPICED ORANGE TEA
(Serves 6)
1 orange
About 12 whole cloves
1 lemon, sliced
1 two-inch cinnamon stick
½ cup blanched whole almonds
½ cup raisins
½ cup sugar
6 cups freshly brewed
Darjeeling tea
Preheat oven to 200 deg. Celsius. Wash orange and with sharp knife, score skin into diamond pattern. Stud each diamond with a clove. Place in shallow baking pan and bake, uncovered, 30 minutes. Meanwhile, in large saucepan, combine lemon slices, cinnamon stick, almonds, raisins and ¼ cup sugar. Add baked orange and over low heat, simmer, uncovered, for 15-20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove cinnamon stick and pour liquid into teapot or punchbowl, including orange. Combine rest of sugar with tea in a small pan. Heat gently till beginning to bubble. Pour into teapot/ punch bowl. Serve hot.
CANDY COOKIES
(Makes about three dozen)
½ cup sugar
½ cup packed brown sugar
2/3 cup butter, softened
1 tsp vanilla
1 egg
1½ cups all-purpose flour
½ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
220g candy-coated chocolate candies
Heat oven to 200 deg. Celsius. Mix sugar, butter, vanilla and egg. Stir in remaining ingredients. Drop dough by heaping teaspoonfuls about 2 inches apart onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake until light brown, 8-10 minutes. (Centres will be soft while still warm). Cool slightly. Remove from cookie sheet.
STREUSEL COFFEE CAKE
(Serves 9-10)
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup sugar
1/3 cup butter, softened
1 cup milk
3 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 egg
Heat oven to 180 deg. Celsius. Grease square pan, 9x9x2 inches. Beat all ingredients except Streusel on low speed 30 seconds. Beat on medium speed, stirring bowl occasionally, 2 minutes. Spread half the batter in the pan, sprinkle with half of the Streusel. Top with remaining batter and sprinkle with remaining Streusel. Bake until wooden pick inserted in centre comes out clean, 40-45 minutes.
Streusel
1/3 cup firm butter or margarine
½ cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup packed brown sugar or sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon
½ cup chopped nuts
Cut butter/ margarine into flour, brown sugar and cinnamon until crumbly; stir in nuts.
From the once-forbidden joy of eating eggs to the pleasure of other people’s packed “tiffin” for journeys to the ingratitude of dinner guests, the writer reflects about every association with food.
