Four minutes to read.
History doesn’t tell us who invented clotted cream. Is it even a real invention? Or was it discovered accidentally like coming across a rainbow when you need a touch of color in your life?
The anonymous genius who first caressed a dollop of clotted cream the size of a large marble onto a pastry made from flour, cream and eggs and then topped it with a spoonful of strawberry jam, raspberry preserves or lemon curd deserves a larger, more exalted place in history. It is deeply disappointing to me that this unknown cook has not been awarded a Nobel Prize for Clotted Cream Culinariness.
In search of the perfect scone and a pot of well-brewed tea served in a quiet tearoom, I am a man willing to risk clogged arteries. Or as my autopsy might reveal, death by clotted cream.
Very likely, most of the clientele at San Francisco’s Lovejoy’s Tea Room have never given much thought to clotted cream’s origin story. They don’t know that the Phoenicians brought it to England over 2000 years ago. They don’t know that clotted cream—essentially butterfat—was first used as a way to preserve milk. They’re probably unaware of the clotted cream rivalry between the English counties of Cornwall and Devon. I myself don’t much care.
Lovejoy’s is a slightly uncomfortable, very charming British-style tea shop at the corner of Clipper and Church streets. It serves afternoon tea, cream tea and high tea on a jumble of chinaware of the sort one finds in abandoned attics, heirloom steamer trunks and farmhouse yard sales. The décor is 19th Century Dainty Doily.
The tea service choices are serious business. Yorkshire Gold; English Breakfast; Single Estate Ceylon; Afternoon Darjeeling; Lapsang Souchong; Earl Grey; Black Currant; Apricot; Passion Fruit; Mango; Spiced Citrus; China Rose Petal; Chestnut; Black Vanilla; Black Strawberry; Royal Blend; Chocolate Truffle; Chocolate Raspberry; Peach; Masala Chai; Dragonwell; Ginseng Green; Pomegranate Green; Genmai Cha; Jasmine; White Peach; White Strawberry; Vanilla Green; Vanilla Rooibos; Forest Berries; Blood Orange; Peppermint; Chamomile.
While studying the exhaustive tea menu, for support and sustenance I considered ordering a cup of coffee. I didn’t dare.
Tea sandwich savories are savory: Cucumber & Cream Cheese; Roast Beef & Horseradish; Smoked Turkey & Dijon Mustard; Egg & Onion; Chicken-Apple-Walnut Salad; Smoked Salmon & Cream Cheese; Pickle Chutney & Cheese; Ham & English Mustard; Tomato & Cheddar Cheese; Cream Cheese & Green Apple; Cream Cheese & Mandarin Orange. I picked two, and immediately wanted two more. The finger sandwiches arrived standing at attention like a Royal Regiment of Fusiliers.
Like the recidivist gastronaut that I am, I ordered currant scones, Devon clotted cream and jam preserves. For the love and the joy of it, next time I’m test-tasting the sausage rolls or perhaps the Shepherd's Pie. My arteries need a new challenge.
While I was being seated by the maître d’, four women wearing colorful scarves—perhaps two mothers, two daughters—were ensconced at their cozy corner table. Smiling, beaming, prolonging the meal and the moment with bottomless pots of tea. When I left, they were still there, still refilling their thirsty teacups.
Lovejoy’s is that kind of place.