Is it time for tea?
George Trefgarne reckons the coffee shop may have met its match As so often with a tale of fads and fashions, we must begin our journey in pursuit of the rebirth of the tea shop in the west London enclave of Notting Hill. An interesting-looking place called the Tea Palace (www.teapalace.com) opened up on Westbourne Grove last year. Could this be it? I wondered as I went in the other day. Could this be the beginning of Britain's revenge on the omnipresent Starbucks? I don't know about you, but these days I avoid that purveyor of expensive, coffee-flavoured milkshakes. It is liable to bring out unworthy feelings of antiAmericanism in me. Starbucks is the Yankee grey squirrel of the high street, which has reduced our native tea and coffee shops to a few redoubts in the North.
Sadly, the Tea Palace disappoints. It is too formal and too like a restaurant. Furthermore, it is in Notting Hill, which is populated by obvious Starbucks types like Stella McCartney, Kate Moss and ambitious Tory MI's. Something more interesting is going on five miles away in the prosperous suburb of Barnes. Seven months ago a delightful new tea shop called Orange Pekoe (named after a grade of large leaf tea; tel: 020 8876 6070) opened. I like it so much that I keep going back and find myself singing its praises to all and sundry.
At this point, I should remind the many fans of the Spectator Wine Club that tea has a perfectly respectable tradition as far as this magazine is concerned. The first version of The Spectator, published by Joseph Addison and Richard Steele in the early part of the 18th century, was specifically produced for the new tea and coffee houses in which the beau monde was congregating. One of these was founded by Richard Twining at 215, The Strand. For some reason, tea was for ladies, whereas men tended towards coffee (perhaps they needed all that caffeine to trade shares in Gan-away's coffee house, insure ships at Lloyd's or gamble at White's).
This year is the 300th anniversary of Twinings, and although the company still trades out of the same premises and a descendant of the founder, Stephen, has been heroically promoting its products around the world, it is safe to say that it is not as fashionable as it once was. Twinings is owned by the Weston family's AB Foods and the shop is drearily corporate.
Which brings us to back to Barnes, home to such cutting-edge characters as Lord Patten and Sir Tim Rice. Obviously, an English person would be far too lazy to reinvent the tea shop. Most of us are happy with tea bags which are filled with the lowest of the 30 different grades of tea, CTC (cut, torn and curled).
But Orange Pekoe is owned by an ambitious couple of Greek Cypriot descent: Marianna Hadjigeorgiou and Achilles Agridiotis. Their Greekness is an advantage. For them, tea has no embarrassing associations with seaside hotels or the temperance movement. Instead, they treat it lovingly and, it has to be said, with a bit of pretension. 'All our teas are single estate,' Marianna tells me. She trained as a tea taster and has the manner of an enthusiastic wine-dealer. 'All the tea traders who taught me were over 60 years old, which goes to show how their skill has been underappreciated.'
They stock 65 different types of tea, with evocative names like Ceylon Kennilworth, Margaret's Hope and White Silver Needle. Prices for loose leaf sold in the shop start at £4 for a quarterpound bag of Earl Grey, rising to £40 for a tiny bag of the best flowering teas. These are curious, hand-rolled pellets T, from Japan which are not only delicious and aromatic but open out in hot water to reveal beautiful dried marigolds or chrysanthemums. Flowering teas are best made in special glass teapots, so you can see them unfurl.
At Orange Pekoe most, but not all, tea is served without milk and made using special empty tea bags called tea filters. You can fill these brilliant inventions (L3 for a packet of 100) with the leaves you want, and they allow the tea to be hoiked out at just the right stage in the brewing process. They also prevent soggy leaves in the bottom of the pot.
The crockery at Orange Pekoe is proper bone china. And yes, before you ask, there are cakes, breakfasts and light lunches as well as coffee. There are papers for news addicts. And the overall feel is liberal conservative, without being irritating.
'When we opened,' says Marianna, 'we sold out of raspberry leaf tea immediately, in the first week. I didn't know why. But then one of the mothers who comes in here said that if you drink it in the last week of pregnancy, it induces labour.' I detect the beginning of a craze.
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