Tea, anyone?

Shabbat afternoon is when we have friends over for tea. In our world, everyone entertains on Shabbat. Friday night dinners and Shabbat lunches are really the only ways to socialize, since going out for drinks on a causal Wednesday would be looked upon with suspicion. But Shabbat meals are all about having other folks over, and taking your time, sans distraction. No phones, no TV, no electronics and no cooking to get in the way. In fact, if you don’t entertain on a particular Shabbat, one finds an array of excuses to cover oneself. Most common is, “We are having a quiet one”. Less so, “Little Molly has the chickenpox”. But none is more acceptable than, “I’m cooked out!” which is understandable, since most of what we serve at these weekly lunches and dinners are akin to what people in the real world would serve for Thanksgiving or Christmas for a modest group of 18. More often than not, I’ll take a week off from the big Shabbat meal and just have people over for tea.

Tea is great. It’s the English answer to feeling uncomfortable. As my mother-in-law says, “It gives one something to do with one’s hands like pouring and stirring”, so acceptable when one has nothing to say. Though I always have something to say, I like knowing that I have the security of a cup, and that sipping is not only acceptable, but required.

Our usual spread at Shabbat tea is, well, tea and scones. Since the prohibition of cooking on Shabbat is, shall we say, prohibitive, I whip up the scones before Shabbat. As soon as they have cooled, I pop them in the freezer and only take them out an hour before tea, at which point I place them on the hot plate. If my timing is good, by the time we come to eat them, they are hot. If I overshoot, they are hot with very crusty bottoms. Regardless, we eat away.

Next to the scones there is always butter, a variety of jams and marmalade, plus whipped cream. I know this should say “clotted cream”, but no such beast exists in Israel, and making it myself is also out of the question, since even full-fat cream in this country doesn’t contain enough fat to get to clotted heaven…(in Hebrew, you would say “Lo Kurrah Kloom” literally, “nothing happened”, which will explain away anything from a multi-vehicle road accident on the Ayalon Freeway to a fight with the supermarket cashier). We sit, sip and eat, piling our scones high with fatty sweet goodies, while our numerous children run around picking biscuits and yogurts off the table.

This week, we entertained our friends Daniel & Rachelle and David & Gina. These couples have that great mix of “Australian-guy-meets-sensible-English-girl” chemistry going on, and no-one needs the whole tea-and-scones concept explained to them. The conversation, the food and Rachelle’s gift of extremely good, extremely dark chocolate all went over a treat, but my personal highlight of the afternoon was David’s great-grandmother’s Chocolate Apricot Cake. There is so much to tell you about this cake, but you’ll just have to be patient until we meet again in the blogosphere.

Scones

For now, I give you “make-now-and-freeze-to-serve-later” scones. Seriously, this is so indulgent and fun at the same time, it makes tea perhaps more enjoyable than a Shabbat lunch.

2 cups flour (250g)
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp cream of tartar
5 tbsp cold butter (70g) cut into small pieces
2/3 cup whole milk (150ml)

Pre heat oven to 425F (220C)
In a large bowl combine flour, salt, baking soda, and cream of tartar.
Using your fingers, rub butter into dry ingredients. Once the flour feels like wet sand, add the milk and mix with a spoon until just combined.
Using your hands, knead until dough holds together, and pat the dough down until it is less than an inch thick.
Using a round cookie cutter or a glass, cut out round scones. You will get about six to eight scones, then re-roll the dough to get another two scones.
Place on a lightly greased tray and bake for about 12-15 minutes.