Afternoon teahouses have been springing up all over town, catering to the white-haired crowd, the bridal shower set and young, professional women simply looking for an alternative to the Sex in the City cosmo scene. Afternoon tea requires neither Manolo Blahniks nor chandelier earrings, and for a few dollars more than one might spend on a designer cocktail, these young women can enjoy an entire light meal that's veritably steeped in tradition. I was first turned on to this phenomenon by a lawyer friend of mine who whoops it up at this antiques-shop-cum-tea-parlor with a small circle of friends on a monthly basis.
The House of Two Sisters is one of their haunts, and it had enjoyed a brisk business for three years on the corner of Howard Avenue and Cleveland Street before moving to its current – and much larger – location in Ybor City. But don't let the yuppie seal of approval confuse you. This place is very much your grandmother's tearoom. Lacy doilies and flower prints cover most surfaces, and everything from the tea warmers to the sugar tongs bears a patina of age and affection.
The eponymous two sisters are Debra Vallejo and Diane Reynolds. They term their service "The Sister's High Tea" ($11.95) – a misnomer in keeping with the American perception of "high tea" as an elegant and genteel affair, replete with scones and cucumber sandwiches. In truth, high tea is what we think of as dinner (a heavy multi-course meal served at a high table, rather than a little parlor set), and what the sisters serve is actually called low tea, afternoon tea, or full tea. However, low tea doesn't exactly sell the image of rose spray teacups and Devonshire cream, so Sister's High Tea it is. (Vallejo and Reynolds know what they're doing; on their website, they describe their services as an afternoon tea.) Tea is served by reservation at 11 a.m., 1 and 3 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday, and Sunday is reserved for special events (most often the kind that involve knitted booties).
The Sisters favor English import Ahmad in bags – easier to deal with from a commercial perspective and, for fruity flavored teas, better than the loose leaves. The Sisters have alternatives to their daily flavor, and report that many of their older clients prefer straight-up English black or the traditional, bergamot-infused Earl Grey.
After being seated, our server asked us if we found acceptable the day's special, black tea with raspberry flavoring. (We also tried Ahmad's black tea with peach, and found it every bit as flavorful.) The tea sets at Two Sisters are comprised of a delightfully mismatched assortment of china. Sugar is served in lumps. The tables are pre-set, so try to snag a place setting with a narrow-mouthed glass; it will keep the tea warm longer.
After we'd finished a pot, our meal was served all at once on three-tiered dish racks. In keeping with tradition, the three courses encompass savories (a selection of little sandwiches), scones with cream and jam, and sweets – eaten in that order. Due to the tier system, diners at Two Sisters are obliged to eat from the bottom up. Cucumber sandwiches on triangles of white toast supplied a classic if unremarkable touch. I especially liked the perennial favorite, chicken salad with dill on a flaky croissant. Both of these sandwiches are available at every tea, though Reynolds (the primary sandwich maker) mixes up the menu with more modern touches, such as "pinwheels" of green spinach wrap filled with roasted red peppers, onions and cream cheese, and the Hawaiian-inspired shaved ham with broiled pineapple. Of that day's specials, my favorite was a dainty round of bread topped by Gorgonzola butter and fresh red pear.
The second course, crumbly scones with "mock Devonshire" clotted cream, coupled quite well with the fruity tea. The dry baked goods and scalded flavor of the cream was not to my liking, but my friends, who had been cultivating their inner Anglophile for a longer period of time, raved over it. Make no mistake, scones are supposed to taste like this, and if you go for that kind of thing, Two Sisters will not disappoint. However, I've yet to cross the culinary horizon that leads me to get excited about a condiment best described as "clotted."
For dessert, Two Sisters offered a variety of homemade sweets designed to be held with two fingers. Minuscule fruit tarts, petit fours, chocolate-dipped strawberries and shortbread made an inviting display on the top tier, and provided the perfect finishing touch to our tea.
Throughout the meal, the tea was refilled whenever we rang a bell supplied for that purpose, and the pots on the table were kept warm with the assistance of silver warmers powered by – what else? – tealights. Balancing our saucers and seated in straight-back chairs, my table of 21st-century gals was easily transported into an English garden. I can almost hear the male readers now. Twelve bucks for tea and crackers? Yes, the menu is limited. But how many of us have dropped a 10-spot on a single drink at the Blue Martini? We're paying for ambiance as much as we are paying for sustenance. At The House of Two Sisters, afternoon tea is not a simple meal. It's an event.
Diana Peterfreund dines anonymously and the Planet pays for her meals. She may be contacted at diana.peterfreund@weeklyplanet.com. Restaurants are chosen for review at the discretion of the writer, and are not related to advertising.
This article appears in Feb 9-15, 2005.