Afternoon Tea

Suppose that you are in the United Kingdom and want to experience the notorious afternoon tea with all the pompousness related to this traditional affair. Now, let us be more specific in this lavish hypothesis and locate yourself geographically in Scotland. Suppose that you are a golfer, an adventurous tourist or a not so bright intellectual that couldn't make it to Oxford or Cambridge. Very well, you are in St Andrews, spending a rainy afternoon (if you are a mediocre intellectual, probably you've never heard about pleonasm anyway) with more than that "sinking feeling" Duchess of Bedford used to complain about in the late afternoons: a craving for gloriousness dressed as tradition. What should you do, where would you go? Well, according to the British Tea Council (a unique organisation that represents outlets dedicated to both brewing and serving tea to the high standards desired by the UK Tea Council), there is just one option in St Andrews, the Afternoon Tea at The Old Course Hotel. Now, before you grab your umbrella and head to this world-famous hotel, you may want to read my own experience below.

Right, we had at least an idea of what exactly we were about to do. I looked on the internet for prices, menu, information on whether it was advisable to book a table or not (after all, we were planning to go there at the busiest time of the year, the golf season). No need to book tables; price: £ 17 per person. We didn't have lunch, as to experience the affair like they did in Victorian times. The tea at The Old Course Hotel starts at two in the afternoon: beware, it's an Afternoon Tea. As opposed to the High Tea, the tradition of Afternoon Tea started at a time in which there were only two main meals daily, Breakfast and Dinner. It is a light meal consisting of sandwiches, scones, cakes and pastries. High tea was a later invention made by the poor in order to combine the afternoon tea and the evening meal. Oh, the poor... Be that as it may, my friend put her best clothes on and off we went, ignoring the rain and the wind.

Doormen are always suspicious. They like us to feel that we don't belong anywhere. At The Old Course Hotel this couldn't be any different, specially if you don't look like a golfer. It must be said, though, that the doormen at The Old Course Hotel are probably used with the hord of Americans that flood the area at this time of the year and ended up leaning how to be acquiescent. The entrance of the hotel is not very intimidating, anyway. So, one doesn't need to be that brave to go there as a commoner. They won't kick you out. As a matter of fact, they'll probably treat you fairly well, as the tea room is absolutely empty. That is obviously the first sign that something is not right.

The hostess, a beautiful black woman, shows us to the table. There are a few options; we chose the one on the window, facing the golf course. The place is not sumptuous, if it is something you'd expect for an Afternoon Tea. It's not cozy either. There is no ressemblance to Victorian times whatsoever. It's white, plain white, with a huge candelabrum that looks somewhat out of place for such a relatively small white room. I am fast to spot problems. As soon as I sat on, I looked with horror at what was right in front of me: a plastic cup of tea. My fried swears it's not plastic: "it's glass" - as if this would settle my animosity. Gingerslice - I say in a tone of shock and utter disgust - I know exactly what glass is. This is *not* glass. This is *plastic*. Plastic - I repeat with odium. I must admit though that it could be acrylic, but that wouldn't make the matter any tolerabler. Glass or acrylic, how could one possibly enjoy a decent cup of tea in anything other than porcelain? I mean, the British Tea Council must have rules prescribing chinaware for eligibility to becoming a member of its exclusive association!

The tea served here is of the brand Tea Forté. It comes in a very cute pyramid-like bag with a small (plastic) leaf on the top. It is a well-known fact that cuteness has absolutely nothing to do with quality. That tea I was sipping in a disgusting plastic cup was nothing but bland - as opposed to what they try to sell in their festive Menu. The food arrived in a conventional tea-tray. The selection was very conventional: various sandwiches (cucumber, egg and cress, ham, and smoked salmon), scones (with butter, clotted cream and jam) and some cakes and pastries. I know the idea is to stick to tradition, but how unappealing everything was! Not only to the taste, but to the eyes! Spicy it up, Mr. Albert Close! If it is to break the convention and serve tea in acrylic cups, go crazy and present us with luxurious food! After all, we are paying for it - and paying pretty damn well!

Now suppose that you are in St Andrews dreaming about having a traditional Afternoon Tea. I recommend you to get a box of Twinings at the local supermarket, some nice pastries and cakes at Fisher & Donaldson and make yourself your own tea experience.

PS. For a different viewpoint - with pictures an all -, read Gingerslice's report on the same experience, here.

AMME

A despeito do que diz o Angelus, a Alzira é linda. Linda, linda. Linda, linda, linda. Descobri a Alzira de maneira enviezada. A Alzira veio-me através do Itamar. Já o Itamar chegou-me a mim por vias do Arrigo. O Arrigo, por conta do Hermeto. Atenção para todos esses nomes tão bonitos. Assim, como Alzira Maria Miranda Espíndola, ou AMME, como costuma assinar. A Alzira é irmã da Tetê. Eu poderia ter conhecido a Alzira através da Tetê - é verdade -, por quem também nutro profunda admiração. Mas os caminhos são tortos, como a noite, e foi o Itamar quem me trouxe a Alzira. Fez muito bem, porque hoje sou apaixonado por ela.

Senão, é ouvir o seu novo disco, Alzira E. É preciso notar que sempre os títulos dos discos da Alzira trazem alguma brincadeira linguística. Há o PeçAMME, o ParalElas, o simplesmente AMME e este agora, o Alzira E. Alzira e?... Alzira é? É. Não há muito o que dizer da Alzira, porque ela diz o que tem de ser dito. E diz muito bem. É preciso ouvir a Alzira. O novo disco pode ser uma boa introdução para quem ainda não a conhece. Não há nele uma só faixa que não seja simplesmente deliciosa. Há umas marcantes, é verdade. Eu, por exemplo, acho a Talento especialmente boa. Como a Ouvindo Lou Reed. Assim Que Possível, Não Tem Limite, Lugar Algum.

Um dos trunfos da Alzira é arrumar bons parceiros, como este arrudA. Ou a querida Alice Ruiz. Ou então o saudoso Itamar Assumpção. Outro, que será mais importante, é a voz peculiar que tem. Como descrever a voz da Alzira? Parece que canta no frio. Sem ter frio. Canta como ser mitológico de paragens gélidas. Sem pressa, com alguma ironia. Então é ouvir o Ninguém Pode Calar, álbum que fez em homenagem à cantora Maysa. É prestar atenção para como interpreta canções clássicas como Tarde Triste.

Enfim, calo-me. Dou voz à Alzira; que cante.

PS. Os discos da Alzira podem ser encontrados aqui para download. Ouçam, mas comprem cada um deles depois. Estão à venda no site da cantora e compositora, aqui. A Alzira merece.