Tea Time Under the Tree

The warm August breeze whispering through the hazel nut tree and bees buzzing near the Japanese anemone created a hum in the air that was scented with roses. Robert sat at the table, reading and sipping on a tea with the neighbor’s cat sitting on the chair next to him.

“Thank heavens you kept him off of the table.” Kat commented as she put the cat on her lap.

With his eyes twinkling Robert looked at Kat, who felt his gaze appreciate her beauty that unfolded as does a rose does when it is admired. Kat still blushed when she felt the intensity of his gaze. Robert loved his roses and knew the names of over fifty of those that he had planted throughout the rooms of the garden. He collected and steam-distilled the crushed petals of Damask roses to make rose water, Gulab from gul (rose) and ab (water) whose perfume and flavour married strawberry jelly to perfection.

Smiling Kat said, “Philippe should arrive soon- but the French seem to thrive on being late.”

Chuckling Robert added “You spent the better part of the day baking for him. You know, you don’t have to wait for company to impress me- I am worth the effort.”

“So is the effort to keep your waistline in control,” countered Kat as she approached the chair and embraced him from behind.

They had found their way to make the everyday a marvel. Kat had never known such peace and joy. She was a part of Robert’s Garden, tucked in off the small sideroad, and protected by the perimeter of dogwood, rhododendron and forsythia.

Robert had designed the house to be an extension of the garden. It was arranged to optimize the brief hours of sunlight in the winter and spring, and keep the house cool in summer.

The Hazelnut tree ,provided shade and a cool reprieve on this late summer day. Robert said, “Hazelnut trees bridge the realm of those on Earth and the Gods.”

The garden had several rooms arranged with companion plants. Dogwood trees were surrounded by ferns, hostas, hydrangeas, azaleas, coral bells, periwinkle, and daylilies. Lavender, allium and daffodils were arranged around the nut tree. The reading room was covered in violets and shaded by a quince tree because Robert had noted, “Quince is likely the forbidden fruit born on the tree of knowledge in the garden of Eden.”

The entrance to the vegetable garden was bowered with fairy roses and walled with a fence of raspberries on one side, and large apple trees on the other. Large Balsam touch me nots camoflagued the path to a shaded hidden room with hydrangea, wild garlic and ferns. The morning room extended from the master bedroom, along a stone path, past espaliered pears (trained to grow against the walls) and the apple orchard. that separated from the other rooms by a wall of azalea and camelia.

Robert’s mind was always turned on to see a bigger picture, even after his brain cancer had required radiation. He was a master of mindfulness and living mindfully. Before treatment he had been brilliant. His light shone from his heart through his eyes. After treatment he was still exceptional, although the light flickered and extinguished with little exertion.

Kat had braved the past six months, since Robert was diagnosed and treated for his cancer. Robert had warned her that she might have issues getting to know and appreciate the culture and his friends. This was not untrue. She had struggled with many unknowns that ranged from speaking French and Flemish in the village where they lived, to buying everyday items in stores. For months she had used 'adoucissant', thinking it was a type of laundry soap—it was fabric softener- the duvet covers were disintegrating because of her mistake.

Kat did her best to assimilate into Robert’s world. In her world, setting a table elegantly and drinking wine was reserved for special occasions. In Robert’ world, every day was special. Meals were plated. When Kat hosted a large group and introduced her tradition of putting a family style platter on the table, guests’ eyes widened.

Kat had always been a competent cook, and a very good baker. Robert was an exceptional cook of main dishes. He preferred to do the cooking. Kat easily accepted this gift and was happy to make desert, do the dishes and cleanup.

When a meal was ready, Robert enjoyed presenting the dish before it was cut. With more than a little panache, a chicken or barbequed fish would be introduced. Coquilles St. Jacques would be presented in shells, rice would be garnished with parsley, potatoes with a dollop of butter and chives, a steak cooked perfectly was cut in strips and covered in its own juices with a bit of butter.

Robert had an incredible taste sensibility. He could determine ingredients and spices and reproduce most dishes. Kat was quite skilled in this particular domain. Robert was impressed that she could discriminate the difference between freshly shaved nutmeg and pre-ground nutmeg. As usual, Robert had gone the extra mile and researched foods with unusual flavors.

His memory was like a sponge. He explained, “Nutmeg contains Myristicin, a natural organic phenylpropene compound that can act as a traditional precursor for the synthesis of the psychedelic and empathetic drug, MMDA, a non-neurotoxic serotonin releasing compound, that produces euphoria and loving warmth and decreases anxiety. Myristicin is present in the essential oils of nutmeg, lovage and parsley and dill and cloves of the genus Caryophyllid, Syzygium aromoticum species.”

Kat enjoyed the daily traditions that started with a humble breakfast of toast, cheese and fruit alongside a well-brewed coffee, followed by work in the garden, then a light lunch of salad or soup with some sort of protein. The afternoon was left for personal interests. Then there was afternoon tea.

With his usual passion, Robert expounded. “The tea ceremony lets what is, be. It creates what is to be, and what was or is part of the story that describes living creatively, with impermanence. Rikyu, the Supreme tea master, says, ‘you drink the tea, and the tea drinks you.’ The tea ceremony is performed in the most perfect, most polite, most graceful, most charming manner possible, where each individual identifies a mindset that values the importance of rustic simplicity, directness and honesty of self, and recognizes that economics is not the equivalent of aesthetic discernment.”

Taking Kat’s hand he concluded, “It is when the presence of time in eternity holds the presence of eternity in time. It makes a moment, the best ever.”

Having Philippe visit for tea meant a lot to Kat. She had seen others who visited, judge Robert’s diminished state. The guests often spoke as if Robert was not there. Philippe, however, accepted Robert could still express himself and gave him the time to tell his story.

To celebrate the visit, and honour Robert’s love of food, Kat took it upon herself to harvest and slowly roast the Hazelnuts, then made his favorite Hazelnut torte for the occasion. It is a rich cake, in which half the recipe is more than enough for 4 people. She followed the recipe.

Separate 4 eggs – whip whites.

In a separate bowl, mix ½ cup icing sugar, 1/3-pound hazelnuts, 1/6 cup almond flour,(although breadcrumbs work) 1 tsp baking powder, salt, cinnamon, 1/3 lemon rind grated.

Fold into whites

Bake in greased flour pan 350F for 25 minutes . Kat liked to use two or three small pans to stack the cakes

Nut Filling

Beat the 3 yolks , ¼ cup milk, ¼ cup sugar ½ cup nuts—can alternate with almonds – heat until thick

Icing

2 Tablespoons butter, 2 cups icing sugar , 2 tablespoons cream a drop of rum for fun . OK that might be a whole recipe of icing but what the heck.

The small but mighty cake turned out perfectly. The nut filling spread between the layers was hidden by the icing. Robert’s smile showed how pleased he was at her efforts and this treat. Phillippe smiled at the love that was generated in a glance between the two hosting the tea ceremony.

The visit was everything that could be hoped for and more. A flock of swans flew overhead, their song fell to the ground. Kat and Robert looked at each other, knowing this tea party was part of their swan song. Weeks later, Robert died. Kat knew she had offered Robert her best efforts to make each day a special day, and Robert had always offered her, his best. The hazelnut torte would always remind her of the time under the tree that bridged the realm between those on Earth and the Gods.