To Sip a Cup of Roses...
To sip a cup of roses you need some whole dried fragrant rosebuds with hot water poured over in a pretty teacup. Mine come courtesy of my lovely friend Kate who got some as a gift at the Charles Anastase show last September. I think that beats a bottle of water!
The tea is soft and tastes perfumey, as you would imagine, and it's gorgeously aromatic. So be sure to indulge in a sniff with every sip! (I didn't feel like drinking the rest of my third cup so I just held it to my face and repeatedly huffed it. Best to do that when you're alone.)
Update! My brilliant Kate offers this suggestion for the leftover tea (after huffing it, of course): "I freeze left over tea into little ice cubes. Something pretty to put into home made limeade in the summer!" For Kate's fantastic limeade recipe see here!
My small collection of teacups and pots are among the prettiest things I own. I've decided to show my absolute favourite teapot in a separate post because I love it that much (it's a 1920s handpainted Noritake pedestal pot and you can see a preview in the shots below), but for now here are some of my favourite cups and saucers which include my newest Wedgwood, a stunning little deco set with lavender and pink flowers, even on the inside of the rim (I love it when the pattern is carried through to the inside, it's so stark otherwise). It was the obvious choice to host the rosebuds.
Befitting such a gorgeous set was the box it came in. Look what you get when you buy something from Wedgwood's Harlequin collection (it's perfect atop the ivory French bookcase which needed something but I wasn't sure what):
Below is an adorable cup and saucer Christmas tree ornament from Wedgwood, if you haven't guessed. I wouldn't dare hang it on the tree, that slippery ribbon would slide right off the needles and it would probably break, and who wants to see this sweetness only once a year? So it sits on my French antique aqua painted side table where it and the other breakables act as a magnet for the hands of friends' small children (my daughter has never broken anything of mine so I forget that she's not typical). You can actually hear my teeth grinding.
This trio is from Royal Albert's 100 Years collection. They re-released an iconic style from each decade starting with 1900, and I had difficulty choosing whether to get the 1930s Polka Rose or the 1990s Hartington Lane. I know, you can't believe it either, that I went with 1990s design over the 1930s. The Polka Rose is a mint green tiny polka dot pattern but it just seemed such an obvious choice for me, so I went with the lilac set from the far less enchanting era, you don't see lovely purples all that often and I do love them.
If you look closely at the saucer and dessert plate below, you'll see a subtle (but more obvious in person) cross-hatch pattern all over the lilac. That is pretty much what makes it 90s, I can't really explain why it does but I think you might know what I mean? It's not a pattern that would likely ever be repeated as such and it bugs me a bit, actually! (I know, total weirdo.)
The most discernable features of good china are its pristine sheen (no relation to Charlie), and the gorgeous gold gilt detailing. I will just sit and stare (not for too long, don't worry), you can see how solidly made and perfect the pieces are, and you can feel it in your hands.
Come back for Interiors & Exteriors next Thursday if you want to see more of my favourite teapot!