Scone On The Run - The River Cottage Canteen, Bath

And so, to Bath.  The Sconnoisseur will offer the caveat that this tea was consumed with a heavy cold, whilst also nervously glancing at the nearby clock to ensure that a parking ticket did not sully a day of Roman baths and other historical interests.

The River Cottage Canteen itself bears no relation to its more famous cookbook-spawning brethren (as far as I can tell), but is very enjoyable, with its own bakery, and obviously popular with all strata of the Bath population; the pensioner next to us was lost in her book, hearing aid turned off and enjoying the quiche.  The eager young chap applying for the open position of kitchen assistant will undoubtedly become some sort of captain of industry in the next decade.  

To the tea itself.  Initial omens were not good.  The friendly waitress was quite apologoetic that there was only scone left, and so my order was downgraded from a full afternoon tea to a quick cream tea.  But what did arrive was a highlight of this blog.  An early point winner was in the choice of tea (afternoon was chosen in this instance) in a glass infuser.  Added to this a homemade plum jam, and the generous helping of cream, and the one scone that was provided was enough to make up for any disapoointments on the journey thus far - a jounrey that mercifully ended with no parking tickets.

Where next?  To Sailsbury....

The River Cottage Canteen
22-23 Westgate Street
Bath BA1 1EP

Scone and forgotten - Selfridges Garden Café

Not much to say on this disappointment; less than two years ago, your reporter spent a wonderful afternoon on the top floor of Selfridges with old and new friends, before a very memorable weekend in the late summer sunshine.  Indeed, it could even be said that the seeds of this blog were sown at that very rendezvous. 

When one of said friends returned to these shores in May, our shared passion for afternoon tea was at the top of the agenda.  Alas, any other attempt at afternoon tea elsewhere was thwarted by a combination of bad geography and fully booked tea rooms.  In the end, returning to the scene of the crime was the final option, to see if the magic could be recaptured.  But it was not to be, though not for the want of trying.

The café itself was more of a canteen; strip lighting, unfriendly staff and, most critically,  the hardest of scones and the weakest of teas, served in grim metal teapots.  It was an effort to finish; the cream was from a plastic tub of Roddas, and not enough of it.  The Wilkins jam won points back with the choice of either raspberry or strawberry.  But it was not enough to sway either of us.  Alas.  Next time, we will try the café downstairs.

The Selfridges Garden Café