What Afternoon Tea Actually Is

Afternoon tea is a small, civilised meal taken in the middle of the afternoon, usually between half past three and five o'clock. It grew out of a very practical complaint: in the nineteenth century, dinner was served increasingly late, and the long stretch between luncheon and evening left a hollow feeling in the middle. The habit of a tray of tea, bread and butter and a slice of cake in the drawing room spread quickly from one household to another and soon became a social occasion rather than a private snack.

It is worth being clear about what it is not. Afternoon tea is not simply a cup of tea in the afternoon, and it is not a substitute for dinner. It is a light, structured refreshment: savoury first, scones next, sweet things last, all taken sitting down, with a teapot within reach and someone pleasant to talk to. Everything else is decoration, however lovely.

Afternoon Tea and High Tea Are Not the Same Thing

Confusion here is common, and it is worth sorting out before you invite anyone round.

• Afternoon tea (sometimes called low tea, because it was taken at a low drawing-room table) is the delicate version: thin sandwiches, scones, little cakes, taken in the late afternoon in comfortable chairs.
• High tea is a proper working meal. It was eaten around five or six o'clock by families coming in from the fields or the factory, at the main table, and it included something hot and substantial, bread and butter, pickles, perhaps a boiled egg, and a strong cup of tea. Cake might follow. It is not a dainty affair, and calling a tiered stand "high tea" would raise a few eyebrows in a Yorkshire kitchen.
• Cream tea is the West Country shorthand for scones, clotted cream and jam with a pot of tea. No sandwiches, no pastries, no ceremony.

If you are hosting and want to keep things simple, cream tea is the honest place to begin.

The Order of Courses, and Why It Matters

The sequence exists to keep the palate interested and the appetite steady. Work from the plain to the rich, and never let everything arrive at once in a heap.

• Sandwiches. Crusts off, cut into fingers, no thicker than a finger. Classic fillings are cucumber with a scrape of butter, smoked salmon, egg mayonnaise with cress, and a mild curry or coronation chicken. Two or three kinds is plenty.
• Scones. Warm, if possible, with clotted cream and jam. In Devon the cream goes on first, in Cornwall the jam does. Either is acceptable; argue about it cheerfully.
• Sweet things. A small slice of fruit cake, a battenberg, a tartlet, a shortbread finger. Choose two or three, not a full patisserie window.

Take from the stand with your own side plate, eat with your fingers where you sensibly can, and leave the fork for anything sticky.

Pouring, Milk and the Small Parlour Ceremonies

In a traditional parlour, the hostess sat behind the tea table and poured for everyone. Guests did not help themselves to the pot. If you are reviving that arrangement, let people say how they take their tea and hand the cup across rather than passing the pot around.

A few details make the difference between a nice cup of tea and a memorable one.

• Warm the pot with a little hot water, swill it, and empty it before the leaves go in.
• Use loose leaf where you can: one teaspoon per person, plus one for the pot.
• Pour water that has just come off the boil for black tea, and give it three to five minutes. Green and delicate teas want cooler water and less time.
• Milk goes in after the tea in most British households, which lets you judge the colour. Milk first was originally a way of protecting fragile china from heat.
• A strainer over the cup catches the leaves; a small bowl nearby takes the strainer afterwards.
• Stir gently back and forth, without clinking, and rest the spoon on the saucer behind the cup.
• Keep a second pot going, or a tea cosy over the first, so nobody is drinking stewed tea by the final round.

Setting the Room Like a Period Parlour

The original setting was the drawing room or parlour, and the mood was comfortable rather than grand. A low table by the fire or the window, a linen or lace cloth, and the tea things arranged so that nothing has to be fetched mid-conversation. A tiered stand in the centre, side plates stacked at one end, small cake forks, a jug of milk, a bowl of sugar with tongs, and a posy of whatever is in the garden. Mismatched china is entirely in keeping; so is a matching service, if that is what you have. Candles at dusk, a fire if the weather is unkind, and the radio off.

Hosting a Relaxed Gathering at Home

The secret to a calm afternoon tea is doing nearly everything in advance. Make the sandwiches an hour ahead, cover them with a damp tea towel and keep them cool. Bake or buy scones and warm them just before people arrive. Put the cakes on a sideboard rather than the table, so guests can help themselves without reaching across anyone.

Offer two teas: a straightforward English breakfast or a light Darjeeling, and something fragrant such as Earl Grey. Have a caffeine-free option and a jug of hot water for topping up. Ask about milk preferences when you pour, and keep a kettle just off the boil in the kitchen for refills.

Then sit down. An hour is ample. The whole point of the tradition was never the food; it was the pause in the afternoon, the good china, and the conversation. Get that right and nobody will mind whether the crusts were quite thin enough.