A Golden Weekend

The countryside really comes alive during the summer and we have found ourselves to be busy virtually every weekend from now until the end of the season. Fortunately there is a slot available for me to make a quick visit to London for a cut and colour with the lovely girls at Mahogany, essential for me to maintain glossy locks. If this weekend is an example then we shall definitely need to pace ourselves. Attire will not be an issue as I have planned my wardrobe in advance to ensure there are no possibilities of being seen in the same pieces twice, except for my exquisite new sequin dress from Matthew Williamson, which deserves several outings.

Friday began with dinner at friends, which was eaten al-fresco under a gazebo from which we could gaze at the stars which all winked at us endlessly. We were fed my favourite summer treat of Gazpacho, with all the bits and bobs to accompany it, a feast of chicken and mushrooms served with a bowl of summer vegetables and all finished off with a summer pudding. Every single thing other than the bread and chicken came from our hostesses garden and all tasted so divine it could have been a banquet fit for the gods. We were introduced to yet more new people who were delightful and other than one man with metallic painted toenails (on grubby feet) all elegantly turned out for an evening of outdoor entertainment. We ate and drank until the early hours and it wasn't until I looked at my watch as I felt a sudden chill and wrapped my Zadig and Voltaire lightweight cashmere cardigan around me, that I realised it was so late, always a good sign.

Saturday morning was spent with some warmed croissants and jam together with steaming cups of tea being consumed on my terrace, with handsome husband and a charming gentleman we met recently who is a genius PR guru who had kindly dropped in to bring some historical research he had carried out on his Grandfather who had been at Pegasus Bridge during D-day, which he thought middle chap might be interested to read (his pet subject). Whilst here he told us about the fabulous Serenata Festival which during its first summer is taking place not too far away from here, and offers a luxurious event for those who love classical music. There is a palatial boutique tented hotel with butler service if required, the coolest kids clubs with babysitting from highly trained staff, and lavish food to be devoured from some of the best eateries here. We were so taken with the idea that we decided to go and check out the venue.

We took smallest and middle chap to join us on our adventure with a flask of tea and a Victorian Sandwich cake. We drove along a couple of A roads and then turned off in the direction of Kimmeridge Bay where the festival is being held. We drove through two tiny old villages and then arrived at the dazzling location of the bay itself. A large sweeping curve of ancient rocks towering above the clear sea where all kinds of amazing water species live. We walked around the curve and sat upon some rocks and I watched as the three men went off for a swim in the sea, soon coming back in for tea and cake. It was a glorious scene and I can see why it has been chosen for the Serenata Festival where we can all listen to the music overlooking the sea, just about as idyllic as one can get.

If this wasn't enough, on Sunday we had been invited to a tea party on the lawn of a magical garden, where all ages mixed together and were treated to firstly a small and impressive musical performance from a wind trio followed by a traditional Punch and Judy show and, my favourite part an enormous selection of cakes, dainty sandwiches and of course scones, clotted cream and jam. As I sat greedily eating my scone, and observing the scene which could have slightly resembled a scene from Alice in Wonderland, a grey haired tall gentleman joined me with his own scone and we chatted about a variety of topics including his time as a sub-mariner. My eldest chap came to join our conversation and he and the delightful gentleman discussed, novels, music, rugby, sailing, cricket and rowing, and spent much time on the subject of sub-marines as this is eldest chaps current area of obsession. Later on during the afternoon as I talked with our hostess, she informed me that the delightful gentleman was the father of a winner of 3 Olympic gold medals. How refreshing to meet a man who really does have something to brag about, and not mention it once, even when the opportunity arose. If this is how my weekends are to pan out then I'm glad to be in England where the tea is strong, the cakes are light, the sea is cool, the sky is clear and the White Rabbit can be seen if you look carefully, running across the green and lush countryside.

Magic Cupcakes

The time had come for me to host my first gathering of ladies at home for the 'Committee', and I recently felt that all these coffee mornings are beginning to get a little repetitive, only on the refreshment front I might add, not with the company which is stimulating, hilarious,insightful and somewhat competitive in a discreet British manner.

Always the best china is used, as are the table linens which are neatly and accurately pressed, not a stain in sight, plates piled high with cakes and biscuits which are always homemade, and naturally, tea, which is mostly bags but occasionally leaves, although this does create all sorts of logistical tea pouring problems, so most stick to tea bags or coffee. Outfits carefully considered and most seem to be channelling a Jaeger look which is not really me, but fear not as I have found my very own version of country casual courtesy of a combination of those stalwarts of Britishness, Burberry and Mulberry (although I believe they are sadly no longer Brit owned).

I was really quite excited and decided that although I am now very much living here in the countryside that I would add a little London to my coffee morning, starting with the tea, and along with Lapsang Souchong, Darjeeling and Earl Grey I was going to add my two new favourite herbal teas in their girlie packaging from Pukka Tea, Harmonise and Pleasure and I was going to use something quite radical, mugs, not just any old mugs, but a very sexy variety from the esteemed maker of tea and coffee sipping accouterments, Keith Brymer Jones . I knew this would cause a stir, as tea is always served in cups and saucers at these events, but the time has come to shake these ladies up a little, and change can be a good thing.
I also made the decision to move away from the traditional cakes and biscuits and produce some vivid and unique cupcakes.

The morning arrived and I felt completely satisfied that I had left nothing to chance. I had decided to hold the main event in our drawing room rather than at a table in the dining room, and had positioned a selection of small Victorian side tables at strategic points so the ladies would be able place their mugs and plates down when the wished, beautiful bouquets from a nearby florist I found were placed in two of the window seats offering up hints of spring.

At the allotted hour the ladies began to arrive and after their coats had been taken, were shown into the drawing room which at this time of day has the sun shining through it, highlighting the wood paneling, lead windows, beamed ceilings and stone fireplace. A small fire had been lit and the room glowed. While the ladies chatted about the state of the potholes and the weather that had caused them the tea, mugs, coffee, milk and sugar and cupcakes were brought in to the drawing room and placed on my antique bureau.

I had decided not to serve, but invited my guests to help themselves and I watched as the chair lady lifted her rear from a newly Pierre Frey covered chair and made a dash for the refreshments, elbowing others out of the way to get there first. She was transfixed and I was unsure if it was in horror or shock or both perhaps. She gasped at the woman on her right and as I shimmied over I heard her whisper (loudly), "Do you think she made these herself"? She then grabbed the spectacles which dangled around her neck on a plastic chain and read the inscription on the mug "Sex+chocolate" she spluttered, "outrageous". The woman on the right then said "Actually Daphne, (not her real name), I think it's thoroughly refreshing, and you really must find your sense of humour". With that, I interjected and offered to pour the chair lady some tea and picked up the plate of cupcakes and offered them to her. She took her tea and chosen cake decorated with chocolate flowers and a raspberry coloured bow, and stomped off back to her chair.

During the remainder of the morning, much tea, both normal and herbal were drunk by my guests and nearly all the cupcakes eaten, many subjects were discussed and plans were made to begin the task of organising the Summer Fete. I noted that throughout the proceedings that the Chair Lady seemed less forceful than usual and others were allowed to freely make suggestions without being verbally slapped down.

Two hours later we were finished and the ladies all said their thank yous, and complimented me on introducing them to some new teas, and on acquainting them with the fine art of cupcakes. The Chair Lady was last to leave and after she had taken her coat, she looked me in the eye and said "That was the most beautiful thing I have ever eaten, not only the taste but its design, you are a very talented young woman, and I'm very glad you have joined our committee, you have much to offer, and although some of your ideas are rather 'modern', I can see that there is humour within them" she then patted me on the back and left. I am now quite chuffed knowing I have the regal seal of approval from our very own local Majesty, and that there is some magic dust somewhere in my cupcakes.

Time for Tea

A new and intriguing development, and one which I did not anticipate. The Tea dilema. We had invited some new friends over for Tea, and ofcourse my main concern was what to wear for the occassion. Handsome husband just didn't get it, I tried to explain that unlike lunch which can be informal and dinner which is a time when we are allowed the luxury of dressing up a bit, Tea was not in my normal fashion dictionary, and frankly I was stumped, however the weather was helpful, being warm and sunny, and I decided we could definitely vacate to the garden for Tea, which made my decision of attire far easier, a tea dress ofcourse, isn't that why they are called so, were they not invented to help us ladies know exactly what to wear at 4 o'clock in the afternoon? Fortunately, I have a little Chloe dress which I think can definitely be described as a Tea Dress, draping in just the right spots, tiny pearlised buttons down the front, and darling gently puffed sleeves. Completely perfect. Aaah I hear you cry, what about footwear. No problem, sorted, I found some hardy, but elegant footwear on a seaside trip, strangely for me not a known label, but the perfect shape for this sort of occasion, round toed, and slightly wider heel than I normally wear, and definitely not high.
Our guests arrived and I was delighted to see that my clothes choice had been right, and the other ladies all looked equally elegant, in little dresses and one rather divine cashmere cropped cardigan from Marilyn Moore (I spied the label as it was on the back of the chair) and all was going well, I had warmed some scones, made the tea, decanted the cream and my fabulous homemade mulberry jam into bowls, and carried it all out to the garden on my gleaming tray. Every one oohed and aaahed at the sight of the delicious Tea feast. I poured tea into cups, and we all drank. Of course, we were all very polite about being the first to tuck into the grub, so I thought, being the hostess perhaps I should take the first scone. Oh how wonderful I felt as I sliced through the warm piece of perfection, then added a large dollop of thick cream, finished off with an even larger dollop of jam. I was focusing so much on the heavenly ritual of scone spreading I was unaware of anything else, and as I bit into the masterpiece I had created I found myself under attack from a vicious wasp. I lashed out with my right hand, knocking the mulberry jam flying. I watched as jam and bowl flew through the air and landed into the lap of my guest who had just placed her gorgeous pale pink Marilyn Moore cashmere sweater exactly there. The shame, it looked like a murder scene. Next time I will stick to cake and biscuits.