As work at the academy picks up in the second term, the Bark decided to treat themselves to a fine English tradition at Secret Garden Tea House, where although the tea is marginally tasteful, the atmosphere is quite agreeable and the decor is unquestionably quaint.

Before we enlighten you with the particulars of our experience, we’d like to offer an explanation of the custom of afternoon or “low” tea. Originally a snack for the upper classes in London––it was in the 1800s that the British Duchess Anna proclaimed she was “having that sinking feeling” in the late afternoon––afternoon tea is customarily served at 4 p.m. with scones, pastries, or other sandwiches to satisfy those rumblings of hunger that simply cannot wait until dinner, or “high” tea. The term “low” comes from the height of the tables––low tables for snack, high tables for dinner.

Pardon us for our digression.

The parlor’s wretched distance from Larkspur was amended by the pleasurable experience at the tea house, which is nestled in the Inner Sunset in San Francisco.

We were much obliged to spend an afternoon sampling sumptuous scones, sweets, and other fruits. The tea itself was not quite up to par––we could not quite keep our dignity at the sight of bagged tea leaves––but nevertheless we were impressed by the undertones in each of their brews.

The floral notes of the “Madame Butterfly” green tea added pleasant subtlety to the mild flavor, and we also savored a sip of the “enchanted” herbal tea, which offered mellow nips of peppermint and spearmint atop a base of creamy pink rose.

As the description states, “Passion flower is added for love, jasmine for aroma, mallow for creaminess and rose hips for a healthy twist.” However, we could not taste each of these qualities in our beverages, though the twist of health was not quite as pronounced as the startlingly perceptible love, and the blossoming fragrance of jasmine.

We indulged in the “Lord’s & Lady’s Cream Tea” platter, which was gracefully set upon the glass table top with its accompanied scones. We immensely enjoyed the delicate blueberry and idyllic cinnamon scones with our green tea.

Amongst the many delights of the “Sweet Surrender” platter is succulent honeydew melon, in addition to superbly crisp grapes. Of some concern, though, were tasteless watermelon chunks of which we simply couldn’t tell the origin.

We were increasingly disappointed to discover the juices from the dodgy watermelon had contaminated the spongy brownie and rendered the bottom of the nearest pastries soggy. Additionally, much to our absolute horror, the quarter-sized chocolate chip cookies tasted all too similar to Chips Ahoy!

Although we truly enjoyed our experience at the Secret Garden Tea House, a few remaining distasteful specifics left established memories of note. The tranquil aura from the smooth jazz and floral wallpaper was harshly infringed by the rumble of the air vent. Not to mention, one of us immediately suffered from a distressing headache the moment the unpleasant machine turned on. Coincidence? We surely think not.

To top off these unpleasantries, we took note of the shameful linoleum floor and uncomfortable wooden chairs. Their server, somewhat helpful and attentive to the table, dissatisfied us with her obnoxious movements. The harmonious ambiance occasionally suffered from the clapping of her shoes and clamor of dishes in the nearby kitchen. Nonetheless, our tea and scones arrived quite promptly, for which we were quite grateful.

Also of note was an unexpectedly idle environment. We presumed that a Friday afternoon at 4 p.m. would be a more popular choice for any bright person of refined taste. However, we were graced by the company of only two other parties, leaving us to appreciate our intimate dining under the illuminated chandeliers.