HG never drinks tea at an American restaurant. It’s vile. Sheer heaven is teatime at Brown’s or another estimable London hotel restaurant like the Savoy or Claridge’s, etc.. Ah, scones with clotted cream and strawberry preserves with properly brewed tea. SKF carries on English tradition by doing tea properly. Scalds the teapot with boiling water. Adds the good tea bags to the tea pot and covers them with boiling water. Nestles the teapot in a tea cozy (SKF uses a colorful cozy knit by her late grandmother). Lets the tea steep for an appropriate period. Pours it in a cup and adds a dash of milk. Very comforting. HG’s beloved late father, Hershele Tsvi Freimann, would frown at the addition of milk. He drank strong Russian style black tea with lemon. Held a sugar cube between his teeth as he sipped the brew. Sometimes he eliminated the lemon and added a big dollop of cherry preserves to his cup. That’s the way after dinner tea was served at the Russian Tea Room on W. 57th Street in New York. Try it. Delightful.
A Tramezzino is a modest in size, but rich in taste, little Italian sandwich with origins in the city of Turin. In Britain it would be referred to as a “tea sandwich” — those thin sandwiches served with afternoon tea. In Italy, these sandwiches scale creative heights. The bread is always thin white bread (crusts removed). If you want to make Tramezzini at home, try Pepperidge Farm Very Thin Sliced White. At bars in Venice, there are a variety of Tramezzini fillings. All start with lots of mayonnaise (home chefs make sure to use Hellman’s Real Mayonnaise). Here are some fillings: chopped egg; sliced egg with asparagus spears; arugula and bresaola (air cured beef); tuna and sliced onion; tuna and white beans; ham and provolone. When HG makes Tramezzini at home, he adds to this list rare roast beef with slices of cornichons; bacon and turkey; sardines and sliced onion; Piquillo peppers and anchovies; smoked salmon and capers (no mayonnaise on this one– just brush the bread with a bit of olive oil). Tips: Do not stint on the mayonnaise. Do not use tomatoes — you don’t want mushy bread. Use your imagination in terms of additions and garnishes and always slice the sandwich diagonally to create 2 attractive triangles. In Italy, Tramezzini are a favorite of teenagers, businessmen in a hurry and ladies who like them with a bracing cup of tea. If you enjoy Tramezzini you will be in good company. HG’s distinguished son-in-law, Profesore/Dottore Massimo and Guido Brunetti, the detective protagonist of Donna Leon’s Venetian novels, fancy these morsels. HG favors a tray of Tramezzin with chilled Prosecco while watching his NBA heroes performing their wonders on television. Nice way to spend a chilly Sunday afternoon.
HG and BSK haven’t been in London for ten years. The changes are immense. The city is shining, crackling with energy, spruced up, diverse. A true world city. Makes Paris look a bit diminished and dingy.
Off to the Victoria and Albert. Wandered the sculpture galleries. Wonderful Rodins and Canovas. Outstanding collection of postwar Britons (Eric Gill, etc.) not seen much in USA. Design section with all of the usual suspects (Mies, Corbu, Aalto, Breuer, Ruhlmann, Hoffman,etc.). Beautiful screen of lacquer cubes by Eileen Gray and one of chrome and mirror by Syrie Maugham. Timeless glamour approached in two different ways by two very different female sensibilities. Came away with renewed appreciation of inventive genius of Israeli/Brit Ron Arad. (HG must confess, however, that nothing tops the bravura rhinoceros bar by Lalanne at the Paris Arts Decoratifs).
Tea. Scones. Clotted cream. Marmalade. Strawberry jam. HG and BSK nibbled it all in the V & A’s civilized complex of cafes. A glimpse at the state of English dining 2011: The cafe has a tea bar, of course, but another counter of French treats like pates, terrines, celeriac and lentil salads, etc. A counter offers some very good looking hot meat pies and steak and kidney pies, British staples. There’s deli, fresh salads, soups, etc. All fresh. All savory. This is London mass feeding today.
Dinner at J. Sheekey, the venerable theater district seafood restaurant off Leicester Square. J. Sheekey is a collection of small, nicely lit old rooms lined with red leather banquettes and theatrical photos. Noisy buzz in the air. Deft, professional (but warm) service. Chiiled Muscadet. HG and BSK shared eight oysters from various spots along the British coast. Better than the best of Paris (but missed those French bulots). Then a dish of two razor clams. The long shells were filled with tender strips of the clam, very thin crisps chips of Spanish chorizo, fava beans, chopped herbs, fragrant olive oil. No garlic. Nothing to interfere with the purity of the dish. This was followed by perfectly done John Dory, moist, firm and flaky. The fillets nested on a bit of whipped celeriac and were topped by sea kale and a few long strips of poached celeriac. This was seafood cuisine that followed the Mies dictums: Less Is More. God Is In The Details. Need HG say more? HG got robust with a Welsh Rarebit (splash of Worcestershire) and a glass of Spanish Tempranillo. Sweet Italian Muscat for BSK. Finale: Salted caramel ice cream.
Home to sleep the sleep of the good, the pure and the blessed. 
