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Afternoon Tea

What comes to mind when hearing or reading the words, ‘afternoon tea’? Is it satin tablecloths and delicate boned china dishes, scones and jams, and pinkies sticking out just so? Is it something more casual, perhaps? Just big mugs of hot brew with a little cream thrown in, shared over a table to help keep your eyes open mid-day? Or maybe it’s fancier still, with tiny triangles of cucumber sandwiches and coronation chicken, trifles of battenburg cakes and macaroons and macarons all set upon a 3-tiers of perfectly assembled wonder. 
For me, growing up, afternoon tea was simply a pot of tea with my grandmother. We’d pour cups of green tea, Constant Comment or Earl Grey and talk. She’d tell me stories, some from her life, some she made up, and we’d sip. That was it.  But from that humble beginning, a fascination with the idea of afternoon tea began. I’d read about the more posh variety in novels, I’d see it in period films, and I even partook of an especially lovely version in North Caroli…

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