Cream Tea Café

I am not one for rigid rules, and I don’t throw around words like “must”, “always”, “never” and so on. It is an egocentric fallacy to insist that the way one was taught is the only way to do things. And yet the writings about tea time traditions are full of such nonsensical “laws”. Traditions change and customs evolve. And in the case of the cream tea, different traditions exist, as different counties have different cream teas. The origins of the cream tea are rooted in South West England, but it is a disputed matter as to which county was the creator.

So despite what purists may have you believe, there are several different ways to enjoy a cream tea. The setting may be an urban hotel, a rural tea house or your own home. A cream tea can be a posh affair to dress up for or a casual afternoon with family. Either way, there are a few essential items which have to be present to constitute a cream tea.

First, there must be tea. The British tradition is to have a black tea (fermented, wilted tea leaves) with milk and sugar. The variety of black tea is usually Sri Lankan or Indian, such as Assam or Darjeeling. Britons tend to pour milk into the cup before the tea, but this preference is not unanimous. George Orwell was a “milk first” man and had his own “11 golden rules” for his perfect cup of tea, which he outlines in an essay, published in the Evening Standand in 1946. Many have proposed the “proper” method for preparing English tea, claiming physics, chemistry, “rightness” and the imagined will of the universe on their side. I won’t cite them here, as most are quite unpleasant.

Next, you’ll need a scone or Cornish split. They differ in so much as the former is made with baking powder and the latter uses yeast, as well as some lard. Also, scones are served warm from the oven (not toasted), whereas the Cornish split is served cold. The international standard for a “traditional” afternoon tea is a scone. To the large majority of those in the United Kingdom, this is word rhymes with “gone”, as is in keeping with its Scottish provenance. Some posh Brits would insist that scone rhymes with “cone”, with a strong emphasis on the “o”, but they are in the minority here. The classic scone is lightly browned, fluffy to flaky, triangular or circular, not lumpy, and can be sweet or neutral (sugar is not an essential ingredient). The Americans have bastardised the scone (they say it like “cone”, without much emphasis on the “o”) into something like a British rock cake, filled with fruit, in a sugar-crusted crumby heap.

To top the scone, you’ll need two or three things. The Cornish usually start with butter, but this is taboo elsewhere. The other elements are jam and clotted cream. The Cornish way is to spread jam on a buttered halved scone (or Cornish split), then top with heaps of clotted cream. The Devonian way is to do the opposite: spread clotted cream on a bare, halved scone, then top with jam. The jam is traditionally a strawberry variety, and the clotted cream is usually from the South West of England, often Cornish. The imitation cream tea one unfortunately encounters can include poor substitutes for clotted cream such as whipped cream or modified cream cheese. This is not only unapetising, but also quite sad, as real clotted cream is a pure delight.

P.S. Don’t be confused by the name: the clotted cream goes on the scone, not in the tea.