Afternoon Tea Party
Hosting a gathering is about legacy.
For me, hosting gatherings is about legacy. How I do it is how I want to be remembered.
Hosting, for no reason other than to spend time together and celebrate friendship (or family), is like living out a eulogy speech—I like to think mine goes: Emily was so inviting and always found something to celebrate. She made her friends oblige to her cheeky seasonal salons and we always left with a new recipe, friend, or item we never knew we needed—about you and your friends, except everyone’s alive and able to enjoy the tea—imported from France, not from the funeral home.
To gather, outside of obligatory events like a wedding or funeral, is the perfect time to hold a friend’s warm face in your hands, tell them how ridiculously beautiful they are, share something you love about them, elbow their ribs with a good inside joke, and hand them a cup of imported hot tea or glass of French champagne and laissez le bon temps rouler (let the good times roll)!
I hate when I have to go to a gathering that feels like an itchy wool sweater or a too tight dress. There, you’ll find me giving my husband or a girlfriend the discreet raised eyebrow suggesting, it’s time to go home so I can take my bra off—or pop over to a local café and catch up one-on-one. I’ve lived long enough to have earned my stripes attending the obligatory gatherings. Like itchy wool sweaters and too tight dresses, they just aren’t my thing.
My friends have oft suggested, Emily, why don’t you host your seasonal gatherings at—in this case—the local tea house? How do I explain that the local tea house has too many rules. It’s an itchy wool sweater for a large friend gathering. I want my guests to explore the rooms in my home, get comfortable, and feel at home. I want them to enjoy our art and walk downstairs to our kitchenette and grab another drink without asking. I want them to take their shoes off, if they wish, and feel like they’re in their own living room with old friends. If I had a friend run a bath with soaking salts during a gathering I was hosting, I may just declare my love for them evermore. That’s how I want my guests to feel.
The German/ French upbringing in me knows how to stick to a good hard rule and follow proper etiquette. But, when it comes to gatherings in my home, I like to think that because I know the etiquette (fun fact: I hosted the etiquette seminars for my university business school), I have earned the right to now bend the rules or ditch them altogether.
In this case, and in this season, the gathering was an afternoon tea party with a table tennis tournament. Awards given out for best fascinator and table tennis champ. Eat with your fingers (as one does at afternoon tea) and feel free to scrounge through my kitchen drawers to look for additional wine bottle openers. Come as you are, drop whatever is going on in your life for a few hours, and deepen and nourish your friendships—and make new ones that outlive the gathering.
The entertainment should welcome your guests in, surprise them, and delight them. Ideally, music heard before entering the front door signals to the guest that, without question, this is the place. Come on in.
The food and drink served should give pause and make your guests think, yeah, that’s livin’ baby. You want the food to be so simple and delicious that they declare to the woman next to them—(Moaning) That’s so good. I can’t believe she made that! You want the food and drink to taste as special as your friendships are.
The friendships deepened, new or familiar, should continue on outside of the host and her gathering. That is the goal. This is the legacy—the pieces of you and energy you created that live on outside of your being and outlive your ceasing.
Here are some of the recipes I made and items purchased for the afternoon tea party:
Classic Scones: I made these quickly the day of—the easiest and best, classic British scone recipe. Not too sweet, not dry. I served them with a Vermont crème fraîche and three different types of the highest quality jam I could find: sour cherry jam, fig jam, and orange fig jam. Do not skimp on the cream and jam. It would be a missed life experience.
Chocolate truffles: These can be made up to four days in advance, and rather quickly. I make these every week now, and store them in our fridge. They’re much tastier and more luxurious than a big, boring (American) bar of chocolate. My family loves them and the women at the afternoon tea raved over them. They’re so creamy and rich (not in the bitter dark chocolate/cacao way) that you need only indulge in one or two truffles. Invest in a melon baller if you’re going to make these, and use a whisk to blend the chocolate disks with the cream. Give it a shot. I promise it’s easy and fun to make—with children, too.
Infusion of Fermes de Marie Herbal Tea Blend by Pure Altitude (infuse for 12-15 minutes before drinking for full anise sweetness): I believe in the gentle medicinal powers tea offers, the pleasure a superbly steeped cup can bring, and the beautiful versatility the drink offers at any time of day. This Infusion of Fermes de Marie herbal tea blend tea is exceptional. By far the best tea I have ever, ever had. I discovered this tea at the eponymous luxury spa and “farm” hotel in Megève, France (near Chamonix). Because the herbs in this tea are grown locally on the farm, it is small batch. It is bursting with flavor, so much so that it’s worth it to me to buy it in bulk—four bags at a time—and have it shipped in from France. Even your friends who aren’t anise lovers will be shocked at how much they love this tea.
Hastings Tea Carafe: I discovered this carafe at the Four Seasons Jackson Hole spa. I can’t tell you how much I love it and how often I use it—for tea, coffee, and hot cocoa for kids. Best carafe—so chic and beautiful, versatile, easy to maintain, space saving, you name it. Wonderful price.
Friendships and gathering are among life’s greatest gifts! This is beautiful, Emily!
Such an important lesson…keep building community to find a life well-lived!