Eve of the English Tea

I just want to say it’s the night before the English Tea at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. Precision is everything. We are ready.

This is not for the faint of heart. The assembly line of 600 cucumber sandwiches begins at 8 a.m. Julie Reinhardt called at 1 p.m. today to question the size of the bread for the turkey and arugula mayonnaise sandwiches. She was right. Queen Tea Bee Wanda questioned the shape of the egg salad sandwiches yesterday. Fingers not squares. She was also right.

I spent the afternoon making enough chicken salad to fill the choir room at St. Paul’s. And Devonshire Cream to be piped on top of the Williamsburg Scones.

This is no casual romp in the park, people. This is The English Tea. Two hundred and fifty people during two seatings. They pay a pretty penny for the tea and they expect perfection. And they will get it. I think. I hope.

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