Cucumber sandwiches, scones, strawberry jam, clotted cream
and lashings and lashings of tea... Despite its rather rarefied origins, afternoon tea is now a British institution, writes Paul Dring
When, out of sheer idleness and a desire not to get his playing cards greasy, the Earl of Sandwich called for his supper to be brought to him between two slices of bread, he was rewarded with a place in posterity. When Anna, Duchess of Bedford, singlehandedly invented a new meal opportunity, cunningly designed to bridge the chasm between lunch and dinner, she wasn't so honoured. Today, we may have a sandwich as part of our afternoon tea, but no one enjoys a tasty bedford.
It was 1840 when Her Grace decided that eight hours was more than one woman should reasonably be expected to wait for her dinner, and instructed her butler to bring tea, bread and butter to her boudoir at 5pm. Finding this repast just the ticket, she began to invite her friends to join her for tea.
Her guests would gossip and chat about the latest fashions and scandals while sipping tea and nibbling daintily on a slice of bread and butter - and a new social institution was born.
The Duchess' guests started holding parties of their own, and before you could say 'I'll be mother', tea was all the rage among the upper crust. Hostesses were judged not only on the spread they proffered, but also on their paraphernalia, and a successful party needed this season's china, as well as strainers, sugar tongs and napkins. Enterprising tailors even developed a new style of garment, the smock-like tea gown, which was de rigueur for Victorian ladies-who-tea-partied.
In 1864, London bakery the Aerated Bread Company opened the UK's first tearoom. (There had been tea gardens in the 18th century, although these were only open over the summer, charged for admission and even refused entry to the working classes.) Soon, tearooms were springing up all over. The biggest name in the business was Joe Lyons, who opened his first tea shop, on London's Piccadilly, in 1894, and the first of his famous Corner Houses 15 years later. These establishments not only offered afternoon tea, but provided, for the first time, a place that an unchaperoned young lady could visit with her friends and maintain her reputation. Should she so wish, she could even be accompanied by - whisper it! - a young gentleman.
While today's single woman might not need the genteel safety net of a tearoom in which to step out with her young man, and Lyons Corner Houses may be no more, the institution of tea is as strong as ever. With a plethora of good-quality establishments dispensing tea and cakes up and down the land, it seems the bedford is here to stay.