Tell Her to Make Me Some Cambric Tea
Tea plays a major role in my book and in my life, too. I’d never really thought about it, but soon after moving in with my Dad, I realized that like breathing, tea had been a part of my every day since the age of three or four. It soon became a critical part of my relationship with my father and facilitated our getting to know each other better. There is nothing like sharing a cup of tea and some treats with someone to encourage conversation.
My afternoon break for tea started in the kitchen of my great grandparent’s home in Brooklyn, New York. During the early years of my parents’ marriage, while my father was away on military tours, I spent a lot of time with my grandmother. Every day, she fed my great-grandfather Pop and me breakfast, then we’d run errands and grocery shop for that night’s dinner, make lunch, and do the house cleaning for that day. Then, at three o’clock, she and I would have tea before she started her second shift.
After sleeping during the day, my grandfather would rise at 4:00, get dressed, eat dinner, and head to work as a proofreader and typesetter for a large law firm in Manhatten. Once Grandpa left, Pop, Grandma, and I would eat. I never once wondered why we didn’t eat with Grandpa. Knowing what I know now, I can come up with all sorts of reasons, both practical and personality-based—his personality, not any of ours.
I was told I could have “Cambridge Tea” so named, supposedly, by my great-grandmother, Nana. Half tea, half cream with a teaspoon of sugar. There were always cookies. Sometimes Aunt Julia (my grandmother’s childhood friend who lived on the opposite side of the green fence) would join us. We could move between the yards by swinging a loose fence strut over and then stepping through. At least, that is how I did it. I’m not sure Aunt Julia could have fit through the opening. Though back then, I assumed she had. I have to admit never witnessing how she arrived for tea.
I didn’t learn until writing my book (because I research everything) that there was no such thing as Cambridge Tea. This was yet another story that had been handed down. Who knows if Nana really said that or if the phrase had been coined due to a misunderstanding.
It’s really “Cambric Tea” — like the Cambric shirt in English folk song (as well as Simon and Garfunkel’s version) “Scarborough Fair” — a thin linen cloth. It is weakened tea. Child’s tea. Milk Tea. There are many phrases to describe the recipe. I now use Cambric Tea, but I rather like Cambridge Tea for obvious reasons.
