I rather enjoyed my mid-morning bruncheon [ARF] at the Vauxhall Tea House Theatre. I confess *not* to having been a customer during the previous incarnation as the sleazy old Queen Anne strip joint. Half a mild and 50p pieces in the pint jug isn’t quite the profile that I imagine the Tea House Theatre is now trying to attract.
It is a rarity to see new life being breathed into old boozers around this patch. Anything that has the ‘charmed authenticity’ of a socially cleansed working class boozer usually adds a digit or three onto the asking price come planning permission time.
Sure, the Vauxhall Tea House Theatre isn’t going to attract the same gawblimey blokes as the Queen Anne, but at least it is staying open as a meeting space around these SE11 Transpontine surrounds.
And it’s not all about the tea either: ballroom dancing lessons, dressmaking sessions, free films nights, poetry and opera evenings. You can take the 50p pieces in the pint jug out of the old Queen Anne, but you can’t take away the interest in exploring new experiences.
Or something.
But it all comes back to tea.
Put simply, the Tea House Theatre takes tea seriously - and so should we all, Comrades.
A Tea Vocabulary is included in the comprehensive menu, guiding you through the worldwide cultural appreciation of the refined art of tea drinking:
“We have a tea to suit any mood from a strong Indian Assam, a sweet and aromatic Vanilla, a healing Japanese Gen Mai Cha green to a range of herbal infusions including Chamomile, Elderflower and Peppermint.”
Predictably I went for a mug of the builder’s best.
Chin chin.
“My, what a large pot”
…I remarked to the incredibly friendly Tea Mistress.
“Oh, it’s just average”
…came the reply.
How to make a Man of Tea feel inadequate, Madam.
The tea and toast was perfect for what passed as bruncheon. The cello concerto being played out in the background led me off towards a dreamy SE11 mind state. A curious case of cake sniffing soon followed on a nearby table. I’m not sure what type of tea you’re having, but I’ll give it a go during my next visit, fella.
I confess to a slight spot of tea etiquette faux pas by not using the tea strainer. I like to think that there is no correct way of serving your cuppa. Dunking a PG tips teabag back at base works for me. I did strain with the strainer during my refill, but by then it was too late. A plimsoll line had developed around the rim of my cup.
PROPER tea drinking, Comrades.
“We are trying to be different. We will not hurry you. If you visit us on your lunch break, then have one, you will be more productive in the afternoon.”
And who was I to argue?
A typewriter was on display in one corner of the Tea Theatre. My pot of Builder’s Best almost inspired me to head over and bash out the blog post on old-fashioned paper and carbon ribbon.
The vintage (isn’t everything…) floral dress window display didn’t exactly add to my Tea House experience, but given the past history of the building, it’s probably better on than off.
The Vauxhall Tea House Theatre was genuinely quite charming. It doesn’t play too heavily on the rush to reclaim the heritage of the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens and all the art-heavy twaddle that this re-writing of contemporary history takes on board.
The area has historically been a place for Transpontine naughtiness, from the 17th Century interpretation of ‘pleasure’ through to the 50p pieces in the pint jug of the recent past.
You take it for what it is - a meeting place that now serves quality tea with an ambitious arts schedule built around the subtle art of supping and slurping.
Happy to blog that bruncheon is for wimps.
Brunch at #Vauxhall Tea Theatre. Blimey. What has become of me Comrades? pic.twitter.com/QeUIFbe0Zg
— Jason_Cobb (@Jason_Cobb) January 4, 2014