30 Aug 2022
Skyline Afternoon Tea @ The Shard, London
The drinks
Upon arrival, we were all greeted with a 'welcome tea' in a teeny tiny - and totally gorgeous - china cup. I am not a tea drinker normally but this earl grey with strawberry puree, lemon juice & syrup - served cold on a very hot day - really hit the spot. I also had another tea that I wish I could remember the name of, but it tasted like apricot and honey and again, it convinced this non-tea drinker to drink more of it. There was also champagne and cocktails flowing; I stuck to the mocktail, ' The Jubilee Party' which was strawberry puree, pineapple, syrup, lemon, basil and soda - very refreshing.
Savoury
Finger sandwiches included beetroot salmon, pastrami and egg, served alongside mini hoisin duck pancakes and two choux rolls, one with chicken liver parfait and the other with prawn cocktail. This was all tasty but didn't blow me away if I'm honest, although this could have had something to do with the fact that I was eating the savouries around shushing a grumpy baby (yes he crashed the party, no he wasn’t invited but he won’t take a bottle so what ya gonna do). There was, however, a courgette and almond tart which was absolutely delicious. I could quite happily have eaten several of them alone.
'A piece of architecture'
The grand finale, so to speak, which we (I think accidentally) were served before the pastries was The Shard in chocolate form. Big shards of chocolate sprayed silver surrounding a rich, indulgent chocolate and raspberry mousse and served with an abundance of dry ice (to represent being up amongst the clouds). It was quite the showstopper and that mousse was delicious. We all agreed that - despite the apparent error - enjoying it before the pastries was better as we didn't think we could have managed it afterwards!
Pastries
Special shout out to the lemon and poppy seed scone which I very much enjoyed. This was served - along with a plain scone - with the usual strawberry jam and clotted cream. And then onto the delicate little 'cakes'. A hazelnut & passion fruit slice, the 'pearl of the queen', a ball of tonka mousse & strawberry compote encased in white chocolate, and the lime and blueberry 'jubilee tart'. It was all beautifully presented, the latter in particular with a purple, sparkly mirror glaze and a delicate white chocolate leaf on top. The tart and tonka mousse ball were my personal favourites; the combination of the creaminess and tart tang of the fruit were delicious.
Obviously all of this came with a hefty price tag but you probably would know that already if you were planning on going up The Shard for afternoon tea. But for a special occasion, sitting above London with friends, whiling away the time with excellent views and eating unusual and tasty cakes was a very lovely way to spend an afternoon.
10 Aug 2022
On Postpartum Baking
I wouldn’t have that again for a while. We had several tough weeks ahead of us; our sleepy newborn bubble was rudely punctured by countless issues surrounding feeding which would leave us physically and mentally scarred, and it was only after my birthday, when I was flicking through my new cookbook – One Tin Bakes Easy by Edd Kimber – that I realised I had the energy and motivation to start baking again. And once I got going, I realised that I was experiencing a peace that I knew was going to be healing.
That sounds quite dramatic I know, but to be blunt, my experience of giving birth was miles away from what I wanted and I found the feeding issues we encountered traumatic which meant that I spent a long time needing life to be simple and full of things that gave my whirring brain moments of peace. I was offered birth debriefs and support groups but what I needed, really, was to just bake a cake. Lots of cakes. And cookies. And traybakes. And just, well, anything I could put in an oven. I mean, sure, I also needed to read books and go for a lot of walks, and tickle my babies toes until he giggled and generally fill life with lots of nice simple things whilst navigating new parenthood and processing all that had happened. It was a concoction of healing remedies, but baking - alone and quietly just for a short moment - felt the most restorative.
And so I have baked and baked and baked. Pecan pie shortbreads and cornflake caramel slices. Brownie crinkle cookies and burnt basque cheesecake. Sheet cakes and loaf cakes and cupcakes (side note - the cupcakes came third place in a jubilee party cupcake competition judged by a ten year old… but I don’t want to gloat). My baking skills have developed, my love for baking has grown even more and my mind has calmed whilst my hands are busy.
I am finding moments of peace in bread dough and cake batter. It is forcing me to take a deep breath when I’m exhausted or the news is alarming or when the house is a mess and my baby is throwing an excessive amount of yoghurt on the floor. It is a moment for myself (and I suppose for the people who eat the baked goods), a moment to feel anchored and, ultimately, a moment to feel better.