Snow has been falling for two days, blanketing the city with its soft and fluffy whiteness. Some people panic, feeling trapped by the banks of snow in their driveways and at the front door. Traffic is even more of a jam-up than ever before. News broadcasters warn people, seriously, to stay home. Car drivers wish they had purchased four-wheel-drive instead of two-wheel, as they try to negotiate roads not yet plowed.
As for me, I’ve got my boots and hat on and I’m going out. It would take more than a snowfall to prevent me, an ex-Winnipeger, from attending an afternoon tea at Casa Loma. My guests are from Japan, and most interested in a “Canadian” afternoon tea. They are very concerned that a car might not be able to traverse the snow-covered hill to the Castle.
Inside, we are escorted to our table in the glorious Atrium by a lovely hostess. Clearly, there have been cancellations, due to the weather. First, a refreshing Mimosa made with sparkling wine and orange juice. It is always a joy for me to enter this circular room, and I don’t really know why, perhaps it is a faint memory from decades past. The gorgeous sculpted ceiling, the flowers and greenery that encircle the room of white clothed tables, and to see the snow billowing over the landscaped grounds through Palladium windows makes us feel as if we are figures in a winter greeting card.
The Earl Gray tea is brought in individual china tea pots and poured. And the parade of delectables begins.
Generous-sized party sandwiches, like bejewelled trinkets, come on individual trays: traditional cucumber sandwich, here served open-face and sparkling; elegant chicken salad, a pretty tart with a twirl of smoked salmon, and shredded crisp vegetables in a black wrap adds drama to the array. But before we’ve even begun to savour our first course, the traditional three-tiered service of scones, cream, strawberry preserves, and a selection of small cakes and sweets (making an offer that even the most disciplined dieter can’t refuse,) is brought to the table and requires a shuffling of plates and cups. This is followed immediately by a creamy, fruity dessert and tucked in wherever there is room. This has no bearing on our enjoyment of the savouries, so elegant that I am hard-pressed to call them sandwiches.
My guests pay no attention to this rushed service, it’s just my desire to have three smaller “wow” moments to appreciate, instead of a one-time elaborate event. Of course, I understand that today’s protocol requires our server to make a delivery only once, instead of three times. More tea? Yes please. Now let’s peruse the sweets. Shall it be the fancy chocolate cupcake or the chocolate eclair? The fresh berry tart is lovely, but then there are several macarons. Oh the decisions we must make! Delectable and delicious win over diet-plan and discipline today.
Suddenly music fills the room, and from a pretty niche in the wall, a musician dressed in a fabulous red gown, plucks the strings of an oversized ornate harp. Almost in unison, cell phones are whipped out to take photos and videos. And then, to applause, she begins to play a sequined violin with verve. It all creates the perfect atmosphere for tea. We are the luckiest people in town today to be here, in this idyllic ambience, while a snow-storm whirls outside. But all good things must come to an end, and there are people waiting eagerly for the next sitting.
Outside in the snow, awaiting our car, we make plans to attend the next Casa Loma High Tea. But Easter in April seems so far away.
