To celebrate the release of The Secret Ingredient, a tea memories essay

Hi all!

The Secret Ingredient, a sequel to The Teashop Girls, is on book shelves! The official release date is June 28th, but several people have written in to tell me they've spotted it at their local bookstores. I'm so excited. I began working on this book a year and a half ago, and it's so wonderful to see it in print. The story is all about food--Annie's baking contest, a food blog, and Zoe's new love--local gardening. I hope you all enjoy it.

To celebrate the release, I want to post an essay I wrote two years ago about a special tea memory. I was originally going to be part of an anthology, but the rights reverted to me. So here it is!

Sunny Tea

If you've never been to Celebration, Florida, let me be the first to tell you, it's an unusual place. In 2005, I was twenty-five years old. I'd recently spent several exhilarating, yet tiring, months in New York City, so the pastel perfection that greeted me in the planned Orlando 'burb wasn't, according to all notions I had about myself and my taste, my cup of tea.
      But that winter, it was exactly what I needed. A visit to Celebration turned out to be a wonderful break from normal life. It was like a quiet dream, in which all the buildings looked like they'd been plucked out of anachronistic 1950s Main Street USA and set down in the bulldozed Florida swamp. Add some magnolia, some green lawns, and lots of white trim, and you had it. In Celebration, everything was perfect…even the tea. But I'll get to that in a moment.
      The planned town was founded in 1994 and designed by people from the Walt Disney Company, who were following their founder's vision for a utopian city. EPCOT center, Walt's pet project  until his death in 1966, gave rise to a theme park instead of a place to live and work. Celebration was much closer to what he had in mind when he dreamed about lifestyles of the future.
      An architectural movement called New Urbanism exploded there. Houses were built close together, with large front porches and driveways tucked in alleys to encourage neighborly interaction. Everyone had the exact same garbage can and satellite dish. The lawns were perfectly edged. Siding was painted in pastel hues and Muzak was piped into the perfectly engineered downtown area.
      In short, it was an easy place to mock. “Good morning, good afternoon, and, in case I don't see ya, good night!” was a standard rib…the line from The Truman Show in which Jim Carrey lived in a very Celebration-esque town that turned out to be a reality television show set.
      Into this pink and green set arrived three of my good friends. I planned to be in Florida for three plus weeks that winter, and knew I'd get bored, so I invited them to come down and keep me company. We'd all been close in college, and it was a minor miracle that the four of us made it happen. At that time, everyone was either finishing law school or settling into career-type jobs. We were happy to spend four days in the sun, eating well and relaxing.
      We went to the beach, we walked along the Celebration boardwalks through swampy wildlife, and we even made a trip to Paris Hilton's downtown Orlando nightclub, which featured a giant Chihuahua out front. In short, we completely gave in to the tourist-vibe and embraced all that is central Florida.
      By our last day, the creature comforts had subdued us. It was hard to imagine there were any troubles in the world when your surroundings were so soft. And it wasn't just Celebration itself that had us so amiable. It was the blue sky, the occasional puffy white cloud, the palm trees. It was hard to think of returning to cold, gray Wisconsin. Where people had problems and we had to do jobs.
      Before it was time to drive to the airport, the four of us planned one last special meal. We'd noticed that one of the more charming spots in our newly adopted home was a tiny tea shop tucked in among the other welcoming store fronts downtown. Sherlock's of Celebration served traditional English three-tiered tea. A cherry red London phone booth sat out front, and a friendly patio area with planters and wrought iron tables was impossible to resist. Inside, the small shop sold loose tea and an array of tea accoutrements, including pots, cozies, cookies, and scone mixes. I fell in love.
      It was one of the first times I'd experienced a full High Tea, and make no mistake, it was a meal. First, we each chose our own pot of tea. I believe I had Peaches & Ginger black tea. I've always been drawn to peach and apricot flavored teas. Next, our tiered trays arrived. They featured scones with clotted cream and jams, savory pastries, and a crown of petit fours. We dug in, sorry to see our treats disappear so quickly. My favorite part was the savory pastries…doughy delights filled with cheese and meats. Exquisite!
      The High Tea was a good finale for the trip. Like the rest of my pastel environs that winter, the tea was comforting and restorative. It struck me that I would probably always follow a pattern of pushing myself to do things out of my comfort zone--like up and getting a sublet in New York City--but only if I could balance these sorts of adventures with the necessary balm of friends, family, and, of course, tea.
      My friends headed home and I resumed napping in the hot sun, until it was time for my own little respite to end. As much as I enjoy Celebration, I require some grit and grime…dives and overgrown yards and the sight of the occasional beater car. But I still return to the “pastel bubble” as much as I can. Six months later, in fact, I found myself inside Sherlock's again. Only this time, I was on a mission. With young adult lit on the brain, the idea for The Teashop Girls occurred to me.
      Alas, Sherlock's is now closed down and reopened as a fish 'n' chips pub. But I hope my high tea there with friends lives on in a different way…in the imaginary world of Annie's Steeping Leaf and in the thousands of other comforting tea rooms across the country.