The class-based seating etymology of high versus afternoon tea is such a smart observation. I grew up with family members who'd confuse these terms and it always struck me how food language encodes social hierarchies. The gooseberry pie detail grounds this in sensory reality, reminds me how seasonal rhythms used to dictate working-class eating patterns beofre year-round imported produce became standard.
Yes, funny how the word "high" has naturally attached itself to perceived elegance when all it referred to here was plain old furniture. And isn't it notable how seasonal eating has shot up the social desirability scale lately? When I was a child we used to have a very grand family friend who would fly out of season strawberries in from the South of France, which seemed to us the last word in sophistication, whereas these days it just looks irresponsible! Glad you enjoyed the post and thanks for chiming in.
Great stuff, Gabrielle! For high tea there was also salad: undressed lettuce, cucumber and tomato in a bowl with a bottle of salad dressing (that gloopy white stuff, slightly sweet) on the side, some beetroot in vinegar, maybe some mustartd and cress, and buttered (marged?) white sliced piled on a plate. Halved hard-boiled eggs? And don't forget the Battenburg cake. My grandmother always poured the tea from the teapot. No one else was allowed to touch the teapot, otherwise "there'd be ginger twins in the family".
Oh, yes, those English salads with no dressing and wincingly sharp tomatoes - I still remember the first tomato I ate in Spain, and what a revelation it was. Battenburg cake was on the other end of the sweetness scale, and was something of a treat in our lowly household. I'd never heard the ginger twins threat - it doesn't sound too horrible a prospect, but I suppose it would depend on the personality of the twins ... Glad you enjoyed the post anyway, and thanks for sharing!
I think high tea is more of a northern thing. My grandmother in Northumberland always produced it when we were visiting. The ingredients varied, but cold meat, tinned salmon, boiled eggs, bread and butter, salad and a large fruit cake usually appeared. Plus the tea, of course. We loved it!
Is it northern, Jane? I first learned of it in my early teens when our French nuns in London led a school party to Lourdes and informed us that the trip would begin in the late afternoon with "high tea" at Lyons near Victoria station. I was blown away by the exoticism of it all and have loved a high tea ever since. Your grandmother's sounds delectable!
Well, this is interesting. I've never really known what high tea was and never used the term. Afternoon tea is kind of self explanatory. I was brought up where the main meal of the day was at midday - hence "school dinners". The meal we had late afternoon was "tea" and might include some cooked items, but it wouldn't be the main meal of the day. This was replicated on Sundays when there would be a large Sunday roast in the middle of the day. I guess it very much did depend on your class, but when I started working, the factory canteen did provide a full dinner at midday - note also the TV series written by Victoria Wood called "Dinner Ladies".
We had dinner ladies at school, too, and were terrified of them! We children had school dinners and a cooked meal in the early evening which was called tea, while our parents would have a more substantial meal later - I can't remember if it was called dinner or supper, but do recall that we children were most firmly uninvited. Different times ...
This made me laugh and taught me something, which is the best combo. As an American in the UK, I’ve been confidently using “high tea” wrong for years, so thank you for the gentle (and very funny) correction. Loved this! Smart, sharp, and such a joy to read.
We once met an old Borders fiddle player we knew walking down a village street one afternoon. He looked forlorn and said "I can't find a decent high tea anywhere"
The class-based seating etymology of high versus afternoon tea is such a smart observation. I grew up with family members who'd confuse these terms and it always struck me how food language encodes social hierarchies. The gooseberry pie detail grounds this in sensory reality, reminds me how seasonal rhythms used to dictate working-class eating patterns beofre year-round imported produce became standard.
Yes, funny how the word "high" has naturally attached itself to perceived elegance when all it referred to here was plain old furniture. And isn't it notable how seasonal eating has shot up the social desirability scale lately? When I was a child we used to have a very grand family friend who would fly out of season strawberries in from the South of France, which seemed to us the last word in sophistication, whereas these days it just looks irresponsible! Glad you enjoyed the post and thanks for chiming in.
Great stuff, Gabrielle! For high tea there was also salad: undressed lettuce, cucumber and tomato in a bowl with a bottle of salad dressing (that gloopy white stuff, slightly sweet) on the side, some beetroot in vinegar, maybe some mustartd and cress, and buttered (marged?) white sliced piled on a plate. Halved hard-boiled eggs? And don't forget the Battenburg cake. My grandmother always poured the tea from the teapot. No one else was allowed to touch the teapot, otherwise "there'd be ginger twins in the family".
Oh, yes, those English salads with no dressing and wincingly sharp tomatoes - I still remember the first tomato I ate in Spain, and what a revelation it was. Battenburg cake was on the other end of the sweetness scale, and was something of a treat in our lowly household. I'd never heard the ginger twins threat - it doesn't sound too horrible a prospect, but I suppose it would depend on the personality of the twins ... Glad you enjoyed the post anyway, and thanks for sharing!
I think high tea is more of a northern thing. My grandmother in Northumberland always produced it when we were visiting. The ingredients varied, but cold meat, tinned salmon, boiled eggs, bread and butter, salad and a large fruit cake usually appeared. Plus the tea, of course. We loved it!
Is it northern, Jane? I first learned of it in my early teens when our French nuns in London led a school party to Lourdes and informed us that the trip would begin in the late afternoon with "high tea" at Lyons near Victoria station. I was blown away by the exoticism of it all and have loved a high tea ever since. Your grandmother's sounds delectable!
Wow, Gabrielle! Food styling here is more than baroque, it is rococo. I am salivating.
Lovely piece.
But for this spread, you'd have to be a grimy calloused working man at Harrods!
They've earned their feast, Mary, the day is long when you're working the stony fields of Knightsbridge!
Well, this is interesting. I've never really known what high tea was and never used the term. Afternoon tea is kind of self explanatory. I was brought up where the main meal of the day was at midday - hence "school dinners". The meal we had late afternoon was "tea" and might include some cooked items, but it wouldn't be the main meal of the day. This was replicated on Sundays when there would be a large Sunday roast in the middle of the day. I guess it very much did depend on your class, but when I started working, the factory canteen did provide a full dinner at midday - note also the TV series written by Victoria Wood called "Dinner Ladies".
We had dinner ladies at school, too, and were terrified of them! We children had school dinners and a cooked meal in the early evening which was called tea, while our parents would have a more substantial meal later - I can't remember if it was called dinner or supper, but do recall that we children were most firmly uninvited. Different times ...
This made me laugh and taught me something, which is the best combo. As an American in the UK, I’ve been confidently using “high tea” wrong for years, so thank you for the gentle (and very funny) correction. Loved this! Smart, sharp, and such a joy to read.
I'm glad you enjoyed it, Marianne, and hoping we get to meet for high tea or afternoon tea, here or there, one of these days!
We once met an old Borders fiddle player we knew walking down a village street one afternoon. He looked forlorn and said "I can't find a decent high tea anywhere"
Oh, the poor guy, I hope someone took pity on him and took him in to feed him - we need to take care of fiddlers because they bring such joy!