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Another semester begins

victoria —  August 30, 2010 — Leave a comment

This is one of those no photos, no fancy, no nothing posts. I’d love to say I patented the idea, but well we all know that’s not true. See many examples of frill-less bloggery about the internet.

I tried to log in to my online Hospitality Management class this morning and the system is down. At least I know my students are most likely having the same issue. I should next turn to finishing my lesson plan and lecture for my Wednesday Nutrition and Menu Planning class but I am sitting in the library in an attempt to not be distracted by the laundry and thirty thousand other things I need to do at home. Some people slack off with facebook, I clean out cabinets and alphabetize the refrigerator. So I am here in a laundry-free zone and I am monumentally distracted by the sound of thirty people banging away on clackety-clack keyboards and the low hum of the library punctuated by teeny voices and then moms shushing them. So much for getting on with my actual paying work. Funny how one can write for free when distracted but not for money. Okay, funny how I can write for free when distracted.

On more food related notes, the supper club is lumbering to a real start. We have some folks reserved for the September dinner but I would love to see it full and people disappointed that there were no spots left. I am unsure how to let people I know socially from previous work situations and through church know about the salon without feeling like a nasty spammer or a vinyl siding robo call. I know there are people who would be interested but if I haven’t spoken to them face to face about it I feel weird about contacting them electronically. This, my friends, is why yours truly is not in advertising or sales. I suck at it. No point in mincing words. If I’m bad at selling myself, whom despite my penchant for amusing self-deprecation I do believe in, imagine me trying to get you to buy a widget washer. However, if you are here reading this, I will let you know that the link for the supper salon is here. You can email, DM on twitter or face book or even call me for the password to view the menu.

We are still getting a half ton truck of veg a week from Avalon Acres. Okay, not a half ton. But this week we got two quarts of raw peanuts and about 8 pounds of sweet potatoes. I am now craving fall food and it is still 90 degrees outside. So, unfair. My latest discovery though is freezing okra and the joys of caponata bruschetta. I found a great recipe in this amazing book I discovered at McKay called Earth to Table for caponata. It has a lot of frou frou things that we are not getting in our farm box like capers and olives and fennel but I have made several tasty variations. It is heavy on the eggplant which ain’t doing it for the menfolk at my house. But really how can you go wrong with sauteed summer veg on grilled artisan bread? I have taken to having it for breakfast on occasion. As, for the book, it is fabulous for anyone trying to eat healthier, closer to home, at home, from their garden, simply… it’s just really good. I have made half the spring recipes and all of the summer ones. Granted I can never leave well enough alone so they are almost always the Victoria version of the printed recipe. But it’s good just for ideas, too. I don’t think I would’ve thought to make a blueberry upside down cake on my own (I loathe, and I do mean loathe, pineapple upside down cake). It was a revelation and went down a storm at the Wednesday night dinner. Jules made it by his lonesome and found it pretty easy unless you try to double it in bigger skillet (sugar doesn’t brown evenly).

All in all things are busy but mostly pleasantly so. I do wish I had been able to procure a full time gig of some sort before we rushed headlong into the madness of fall but apparently it was not meant to be. I am still looking but I get that companies don’t like to hire peeps in Q4 and have resolved to be open to what’s out there but giving it a little more time before I look at seriously drastic measures. Wish me luck.

Feeling neglected?

victoria —  September 21, 2008 — Leave a comment

I have been, neglecting the blog, that is. Life intervenes all the damn time. The best laid plans of mice and men… (can’t help but think of Eddie Izzard there), etc. and so on. All the excuses don’t really get at the fact that I haven’t felt like I had much to offer. It’s been a hard year with one thing happening at the heels of another and, honestly, I have always loved that this is place where I can be snappy and light and talk about non-heavy things. And well, there hasn’t been much that was non-heavy that I wanted to talk about. So, in the spirit of the Law of Attraction or whatever you might want to call it, I am going to talk about light things and about my new obsession. I actually have two but the other one, redecorating and purging clutter, doesn’t really have anything to do with food either

About four months ago, I bought a book, Harumi’s Japanese Cooking, to be precise, and you know how I love to be precise (ha). It has honestly changed the way I think about food and cooking at home. So much so that I bought a second book.

The thing about both of Harumi’s books is that they present food in that uniquely Japanese way. The idea that several different flavors in one meal is more satisfying that one gigantic portion of one or two foods. The other big idea I have taken from these is serving small. Over the years I have collected a number of small dishes: Asian bowls, a set of dice plates (yes I saw them on Good Eats and had to have them), chopstick rests, tiny dipping bowls shaped like lotus flowers. I’ve always loved these but didn’t find myself using them very much. With my new big idea in the forefront of how I am cooking and we are eating at home I am serving everything this way, whether it is Asian or not. For example, for dinner tonight we had a filet of mahi mahi seasoned with salt and pepper and seared and a more elaborate pasta salad with tomatoes, artichoke hearts, zucchini, cannellini beans and fresh basil. Pretty simple overall, and definitely not Asian. In the past, I would have served it on a big dinner plate with a big portion of the salad to make up for the smaller portion of fish or we would have just eaten a large portion of the pasta in a pasta bowl. Tonight I served the fish all by itself on a small square plate and served the pasta in a 1 cup side bowl. No one had seconds.

As part of the presentation, we have all been sitting down together at a set table (napkins, placemats and candles) and enjoying some music in the background where previously we would have pushed whatever one of us was working on to the far end of the table and left the news on TV (bad habit, I know, and one that was fairly easily broken). This has been a truly amazing thing. I know that sounds funny and every third article about the degeneration of American family life harps on and on about families not sitting down to eat together any more, but it has been become an oasis of sorts. We have each other and we feel a little more special with candlelight and cloth napkins. It’s an event in the day for our family, not a fuel stop.

The added benefit is we are all eating less and enjoying it more. This has also helped with lunches as there are more leftovers and it is easy to take something with to work the next day. That has lead to a sub obsession: the hunt for bento boxes or thermal lunch jars to take to work. I’ve been cruising bento box lunch sites. I don’t think I have the time or, frankly, the patience to do anything nearly as involved as hard core art bento, but it is inspiring and lovely to look at. So my obsession has really been an eye opener and I have been reading everything I can get my hands on about the Japanese approach to nutrition and the culinary arts. We are looking at slowly replacing our Western-style dishes all together. That 11″ dinner plate looks empty with a sensible portion on it and that psychological empty space makes us want more food. A shocking thought is that today’s contemporary place setting plates are the same size as platters were previously. And when you start talking about restaurant portions and china, things turn to the ridiculous.

Surely there must be a downside?, you ask. Well, that depends. To really eat more in the Japanese-style requires a few more dishes than most of us have time to get to on Tuesday night. But it is working for us with two or three dishes. It does help that I am a trained cook and can take short cuts with some knowledge as to what they will produce. Most people who cook at all can come up with an extra veg or two on the fly and the added colors and textures get at that Asian ideal, especially if you just serve one that is cut beautifully and cold and nearly naked in its dressing, like cucumbers. Then you are getting at color, texture, taste and temperature. There are a few more dishes to wash, but they take up less space in the dishwasher. Yes, my chopsticks are bamboo and wooden so they have to be hand washed, but I wash my knives and pots and pans by hand anyway. And, yes, there are leftovers unless you are super precise about recipe amounts. Some people, I know, are adamant about not eating leftovers. I accept that, though I’ve never understood it. If you don’t take a lunch, you might be eating slaw for a few days for dinner or throwing things out after they get chucked in the fridge to moulder in the back. It gets easier to judge amounts after you do it for while (though, admittedly, I have what seems like a metric tonne of leftovers to get through this week). Aside from a few glitches initially, I haven’t run into a real negative. I’ll keep you posted.

In other happy news, Trader Joe’s is opening in Nashville next month. I love me some Whole Foods, but people don’t make fun of it being Whole Paycheck for nothing.

Although. It has gotten me here to write a post, so maybe it isn’t all bad. This sitting with the cat asleep on half of the laptop while I type is relaxing in its way. I’ve been plotting a project to make this not so miserable. Teaching one class, one night a week isn’t enough to occupy the mind for the week. I should be working on my lecture about wine. I am just sick that I threw all my notes from my classes out, but I got tired of hauling them around every time I, then we, moved and it seemed like I would never need them. This is why people become pack rats.

I’ve also been pondering slimming my physique. Those who know me personally will be either surprised or think, “Gee, what took you so long?” But, a sweet tooth, a fairly sedentary job and being able to cook just about anything I want at any time have definitely conspired to some south 40 spread and a creaky knee. Looking down the barrel at 40 kind of shakes one up, too. So, having long ago now decided not to eat hydrogenated oil and high fructose corn syrup and to not eat out very much (and almost never have fast food, not that it is ever something I want anyway), I am really thinking about portion size and fiber and drinking more water. We have pretty good diets anyway, but I think just generally too much of good diet is still too much.

I’m sure this is terribly fascinating. Actually, I’m sure it is exactly the opposite. What all this is really leading up to is a kind of celebration (celebration in slimming? Victoria, you have gone well and truly mad.) But yes, I have a certain foodstuff which I feel needs to be commended, despite what my husband and child think of it. Are you on tenterhooks?

Rye crackers.

Yes, those rectangular pieces of Scandinavian goodness. Our pieces of cardboard, but with less taste, according the the husband and child. It is probably in my dna to love them, those nordic and teutonic genes over riding the American aversion to anything laced with rye grain. I do enjoy them. I have a few toppings I am especially fond of, but in a pinch I have used them as a stand in for sliced bread in a sandwich. I do feel they are at their finest at breakfast with a thinnish layer of toasted almond butter (I know the raw foodists would hiss and declare the raw almond butter superior but I think the toasted tastes better) and a teaspoon or two of really good jam, your choice though strawberry, black cherry and lingonberry are high on my list. At lunch, they are tasty with a good Jarlsberg or Gouda thinly sliced and draped over them with some kind of soft sliced fruit like super ripe black plums or a tart kiwi fruit. In the naughty midnight snack vein they are good with a fusion-inspired lashing of cajeta or dulce de leche, cajeta being the preferred if harder to get option.

These are my personal faves but they are also good with quark or fromage blanc and sliced fruit or nuefchatel and the fruit. Peanut butter is always an option. And decadently, Nutella or one of the slightly healthier versions without hydrogenated fats is good with sliced bananas or strawberries. You would only be limited by your imagination, or perhaps your aversion to rye crackers. But see, that’s the WASA or Ryevita brilliance. They make crispbreads with other grains that are less, shall we say, assertive. The sesame ones are especially good and lighter (though also contain less fiber if you’re concerned about that sort of thing). One of my new favorites even has dried fruit in the cripsbread itself. It’s kind of like a garibaldi biscuit without the cookie part. And seeing as garibaldi biscuits are a personal weakness, well you can see the appeal.

So there, boredom and thoughts of slimming transformed into my praise of the rye cracker. I know I won’t change the minds of die hard rye haters, but for those of your thinking about coming to the grains equivalent of the dark side…

Nigella Express

victoria —  October 8, 2007 — Leave a comment

My bad habits aside, I did watch the premiere episode of Nigella’s new show. I wasn’t disappointed but I wasn’t overwhelmed either.

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I was pulling for Casey to win the Top Chef finale, because I wanted to see a woman win the money and the title and the bragging rights. After she choked on the final challenge and having seen Dale’s amazing looking dishes and hearing his wherefore and why he had applied to be on the show, I really wanted him to win. I was rooting for the “big gay chef” (to borrow his own words).

I have often said that the real downside of this program is that we can’t actually taste the food and we only see the dynamics of how they interact through the “vision” of editing. Though Hung came across as, frankly, an inconsiderate shit, it was clear from the beginning that he had skills and though I didn’t agree that we never saw his personality in his food, I thought he lacked some of the fire of some of the other contestants. Though he was my last choice of the final three, it is equally nice to see him win as compared to another “white guy” chef. I started to say hetero, but I honestly don’t know about Ilan, or Harold for that matter. Looking at my students they are not overwhelmingly men, or overwhelmingly white. When I worked at Hotel Chi Chi, white males were definitely in the minority even in the F&B-side management. But still, the majority of chefs we see that are recognizable to, for lack of a better term, non-culinary professionals seem to be mostly white males (the Food Network stable of women cooks, I think, isn’t the same as chefs).

I don’t lose sleep over this, but I think Top Chef tends to throw it into relief by the numbers being roughly even at the beginning and 1 in 4 toward the end. I don’t think it’s a sign that women aren’t as good as chefs, I think the amazing women currently working in the industry is proof enough of that. I don’t even think that it goes to some outdated notion that women aren’t as competitive as men. I don’t honestly know what I think it means, but it’s intriguing and a little worrying for some reason. Worrying mostly because I think shows like this, that appeal to amateurs and professionals alike, may have an impact on perceptions about the industry and about the people in it and I don’t think the women come across as well if in all three seasons the final four has been one woman and three guys (gay or straight).

I am hopeful there will be a season four, and no I am absolutely not interested, that isn’t remotely something in which I want to participate. I’ll be rallying for a competent woman to kick some cheffy ass. And, I do hope they bring back Padma. Whatever the internet buzz on her on-set shenanigans or lack of talent, I think she’s interesting, she seems to have a palate, can cook in her own right, and she is drop dead gorgeous. I also hope we will get to see more of Ted Allen next time (as Queer Eye is ending) and Anthony Bourdain should be on at least every other week. His comments always steal the show.

All in all, despite me burnout on reality TV, I think Top Chef is the best of a mostly bad bunch, but I would still rather see some solidly written dramas, comedies, documentaries, whatever, slide into the time slots of these shows as a whole. I doubt that is going to happen any time soon as they are so much cheaper to produce than something with a decent script and some competent actors.

Happy Valentine’s Day

victoria —  February 14, 2007 — Leave a comment

Ah, a day for lovers and friends, or something mushy like that. I am a romantic at heart, anyone who knows me knows I can be a little silly about love though Valentine’s Day still tends to rub me the wrong way. It’s the greeting-card hype of it, the diamonds are the only way to really say I love you of it, the single rose at the gas station check out of it. Granted, all the major holidays in our consumer culture have been eaten alive by the spending-money-is-the-only-way-to-say-you-care beast. Whatever. I love the sweetness of a hand made card and a home cooked meal (don’t make the mistake of trying to eat out on Valentine’s Day). I also think that books (though, yes, they are purchased for the most part) are always appropriate. Buying a book for someone is a very intimate endeavor, or should be. I’m not suggesting you run to your local book megamart and purchase the most interestingly clad read on the New Arrivals table. When you give someone a book you are saying a great deal about yourself, what you think of that person and what your relationship means to you. If you give the love of your life Sex for Dummies for Valentine’s Day, I can guarantee a statement is being made loudly and clearly.

All this talk of books and love brings me to my real topic at hand today. Ten years ago I bought Intercourses: an aphrodisiac cookbook at my favorite bookstore haunt in Knoxville. I was 25, a grad student and, perhaps most importantly, a single mother with a toddler. I am probably still paying for it, considering I am certain to have paid for it with student loan money. I didn’t have anyone to make sexy food for. I was a fairly accomplished cook though with a much smaller repetoire than I have now. I bought it for the photographs and the stories of the recipe testers enjoying the food and each other. Let’s just be honest here and say when you are a 25-year-old single mom, no one, but no one, is interested in getting frisky with you. I recall more polite “ohs” about the kid factor than actual running away screaming moments, but… still. I poured over this lovely book and dreamed of having someone with whom to share all these delectable goodies and my charms.

Flash forward 9 1/2 years. The daily output of 27 Niagara Falls has passed under my particular bridge and I am a happily married woman with a tween son and culinary school project due. During his daily internet wanderings, Keifel stumbled over a blurb on a website asking for volunteers to test recipes for a new, tenth anniversary edition of Intercourses. I, of course, dashed off an email to the author and crossed my fingers. The reply to my email came quickly and Keifel and I received three recipes to test: black bean empanadas with mango salsa, fish tacos and coffee meringues. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, though the meringues wouldn’t set in our then sticky clime.

We dashed off our testing and tasting notes and waited. Last week a box arrived with copies of the new book, our gifts for having tested and tasted. And there we were in black and white above the recipes for the empanadas and the tacos. In some small way, it was completing a circle for that lonely 25-year-old. There is also the joy of having shared something fun and meaningful with someone who understands you and what makes you tic in the deepest possible way. Now that we have the new edition, I am certain there will be more cooking from it. It isn’t just a novelty idea, the recipes are for some amazingly sophisticated food and for some especially simple carbohydrate-filled snacks to replenish a tired, but still willing, body.

If you’d like to purchase The New Intercourses: an aphrodisiac cookbook for your very own library click on through and give foodieporn 2 cents in the process. I can guarantee you will enjoy the photography, the recipes and, very probably, yourself.

Well, not in love so much as enamored of his wit and bad boy charm. I read Kitchen Confidential when it came out and thoroughly enjoyed it despite never wanting to darken the door of a restaurant again lest I be fed something someone had been having sex on top of in the walk-in. I was also interested in reading his mysteries but have yet to get around to that.

When No Reservations began, I caught a few here and there. You see, I swore off bad boys a while back. Now I prefer those who look like bad boys but really aren’t (Exhibit A being my husband). So, lest I get tempted, you understand, I kind of avoided Mr. Bourdain. Plus, I had already over programmed the DVR.

But lately, I find myself scarfing up episodes of No Reservations like a Bourdain junkie. It started with him being trapped in Lebanon during the Israeli attacks (is that the PC term? do I care if that’s the PC term?). He suddenly seemed, I don’t know, a little braver and a little more human all at once. Yes, I guess, eating the still beating heart of a cobra is brave on some level, but not in my universe. Here, it just seems brazenly perverse. Anyway, then I saw the Sweden episode. Tony among my people, doing something I really would love to do as I have never had the fortune to go to the Old Country. I was hooked.

Now I am into the current season (just watched Ghana and it was wonderful) and catching repeats as I can. Who knew? But I do tend to find chefs fascinating (obviously) and bad boy, rock-star status chefs who can write and have a rapier wit but know when to reign it all in and be a gracious guest, well who can resist? Besides a bad boy who can hold down multiple jobs and tone it down when necessary? Not such a bad boy, but definitely an intriguing man.

Okay, as promised, I have witnessed (again with the help of a DVR) the Chattanooga instalment of $40 a Day. And despite the train wreck of the Nashville show, it wasn’t bad. She breakfasted at Aretha Frankenstein’s which burned after the filming. (You can see pics of the gutted remains at the link). She lunched at the Back Inn Cafe, though she technically only had an app as her meal. According to the Rachel Ray Drinking Game rules that qualifies as an excuse to drink. She did under tip pretty much everywhere. She dined at the Choo Choo for dinner which seems like a cheesy choice given the plethora of truly fabulous restaurants that have sprouted up down there. She went back to the Bluff View Arts District for her snack, chocolates at Rembrandt’s Coffee House where Yours Truly worked before Julian was born.

I was happy to see that the Bluff View Arts District got so much coverage, but she didn’t do a very good job of explaining that the Porteras built up that area and that Rembrandt’s and Back Inn Cafe are both rightthere on the hill. Oh, well. That can be chalked up to my rather insider knowledge on that point compared to Ms. Ray. Now if Rachel goes to Knoxville, Tennessee; Bellingham, Washington and Ljubljana, Slovenia I can bitch about her treatment of all the places I have lived. Keifel and I already skewered her Tasty Travels in Trinidad.

Really, despite my bitching about her dinner choice and chirpiness, the show made me homesick. I love Chattanooga. Yes, it’s a little small and can be positively incestuous as far as everyone knowing you and your business, but that’s not entirely a bad thing. You do have to not go to the grocery looking like hell which I often get away with unscathed here in the sprawling Metropolis (snort, giggle) of Nashville.

On a completely off topic note: My only Nashville source for Waitrose Food Illustrated sold out of the August issue before I could get my greedy little hands on it and as I am positively geeky about the magazine (just shy of buying comic book sleeves to protect them), I am pouty that I have missed an issue. If anyone has a spare or isn’t attached to them in the fanatic, I would love to get one. I’ll pay postage. Leave a comment or email me victoria at foodieporn dot com. Thank you in advance for feeding the habit.

Griping About Television;

victoria —  August 23, 2006 — 1 Comment

wherein our heroine, with the help of cable recycling and a DVR, discovers the travesty of $40 a Day: Nashville.

Just to be fair, those who know me personally know that Rachel Ray’s saccharin television persona sets my teeth on edge. In person, Ms. Ray could be the most interesting person in the world, able to discuss Foucalt, dark matter and astronomy or ancient Roman societal norms with the tweediest Ivory Tower denizen, but on TV she comes across as a bubble-headed, coked-up sprite and I find it more than a little off putting. Please take this bias into consideration as you read the following rant.

This morning I finally saw the episode of $40 a Day where Rachel invades Nashville. I’m not sure who the field producer was for this show or if they actually bought a map of the city but it does appear that they didn’t sit down with the editor and point out that the places that Rachel is talking about and the shots of stores and restaurants she is standing near are not in the same parts of town. While Rachel is babbling on about the wonders of Hillsboro Village and its funky shops they show Elders Bookstore and Smack which are on Elliston and not in the Village. Rachel then launches into, deserved praise, of the Bongo Java empire and that local friends of hers recommended it as a place she definitely needed to check out. While she and the show are discussing and showing Hillsboro, she is ordering at Bongo Java on Belmont, not at Fido on 21st. Maybe that’s picky of me as Belmont isn’t that far from the Village proper but I do think of Elliston and Belmont as being distinct locations outside the Village. She also doesn’t even mention Belcourt Theater which is Village royalty. And that’s breakfast sorted for Rachel.

She begins touring downtown and chatting about hoofing it through the cities she visits, but fails to mention that most people who visit Nashville stay outside the city center losing an opportunity to tell them how they might get to the city center. Maybe that is not the purpose of this show, fine. She finds her way to the beautiful downtown library and chirps about its architecture and usefulness. She then stumbles into the Provence outpost there. She orders the very good roasted chicken salad with lavender sandwich and a Diet Coke. A Diet Coke? They have all sorts of alternatives to American soft drinks to have with your lavender infused sandwich. Blech. The thing that most irritates me about this whole thing? She completely ignores the fact that there is a Provence (that they did not show) across from the Pancake Pantry (that they did show) in Hillsboro Village.

Rachel continues her jaunt around downtown and goes to the Country Music Hall of Fame. On leaving said edifice, she says “Who knew that country music had so much history?” She did not just say that. I reviewed the scene again. Yes. Yes she did just say that. Either it came out of her mouth unbidden and the producer didn’t have any choice but to use that shot or the writer (if there was a writer) for this episode did zero research before banging out some semi-literate banter for Ray to spout on location.

While at the library, Rachel checked out a copy of the Nashville Scene and found out about F. Scott’s half price entrees after 9 PM. I can only say good things about F. Scott’s. Lots of fellow NSCC students have done internships with the chefs there and have had very good experiences. Rachel ordered sweet potato gnocchi with braised pork shoulder and a glass of wine. I don’t really have an issue with this segment except that she does that pronouncing Italian food words with an Italian accent thing and explaining what gnocchi are after showing the menu where it explains what they are as if I, and all other Food Network viewers, can’t read.

After her late supper, Rachel heads back downtown to the Broadway and Second Avenue tourist Mecca and accosts people on the street as to where she should experience the night life. She then heads to Legends and has a Honky Tonk Lemonade replete with Blue CuraƧoa, which the bar tender can’t pronounce properly. She does however pour a strong one and Rachel sips the now neon green liquid through a straw. Poor thing, I’m surprised her eyes didn’t cross. Rachel wraps up the show and I slink off to the computer to bang out this rant.

If the purpose of the show is for Rachel to be toothy and cute and prove you can have three meals and a snack in any city for under $40, it succeeded. If the point of the show is to accurately portray the geography, culture and people of any given location, well, let’s just say I would give it D+. I know there exists an episode where Rachel goes to Chattanooga. I’m on the lookout and I’ll let you know how much eye rolling it induces.

Yay! Thanks to CSG’s driving about on Sunday, I have discovered a new place to spend entirely too much money. A new shop called Tea Time opened on July 1st in the groovy little 12th South District. It’s a tea shop, of course. Not the kind where you sit and have tea but the kind where you buy things to have tea at home. And wonderful things it has.

Kim Carpenter Drake is the owner and she travels to England to buy vintage china and silver which is for sale in the shop, at very reasonable prices, I might add. There were many adorable cups and silver teaspoons and lovely teas in tins. I love tins! (It’s an illness.) She had garibaldi biscuits, my favorite. That may be a danger, actually having a store in Nashville that carries them.

She also does educational tea tastings a couple days a month. The July topic is a Worldwide Tour of Tea and August is What’s Your Cuppa Tea? They both sound fun and she mentioned a Strange Brew tasting in October with tea leaf reading. The cost per person is $12.

Lay out your girly china (or go buy some), bake some scones, brew some tea and have yourself an afternoon tea party. Big hats and white gloves not required but definitely encouraged.

Tea Time
2314 12th S
Nashville, TN
Phone: 615.497.7292
Hours: Tuesday to Saturday 11 AM to 6 PM