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Stephen Harris: magic of the cricket tea

Forget the Ashes, it’s the tea ritual that bowled me over. But is it as English as tradition suggests?  
Forget the Ashes, it’s the tea ritual that bowled me over. But is it as English as tradition suggests?

I come from a cricketing family and can’t remember not being aware of the sport: from the age of three I would watch my dad play for the Old Pernovenians in Sidcup each Sunday. My brothers and I would spend most of the time conducting our own game beyond the boundary. Even back then I can remember getting excited as one team’s innings came to an end and the ritual of tea began.

I was alarmed to find that the tradition of tea at the cricket was not an English invention but probably started in Australia at the 1890-91 tour in the very early years of the Ashes

This was in the Sixties, and social structures were different: the men would play cricket; the children would entertain themselves within sight of their parents – and the women would make the tea. It was like a festival every weekend – and the afternoon spread was, for me, the headlining highlight.

There would be a call to turn on the urn as the captain judged the innings to be within 10 minutes from closing. It would take so long to bring to the boil that timing was essential. Once ready, its contents were poured into a huge enamel teapot that was a unique shade of faded Fifties yellow with green trim. At some clubs everyone would sit down at the long trestle tables otherwise used at coronations and jubilees. These overflowed with sandwiches, sausage rolls, pork pies, Victoria sponges, Battenbergs and, my favourite, lemon drizzle cake. Nostalgia for this type of uniquely British event is what Bake Off taps into. Or so I thought. I was alarmed to find that the tradition of tea at the cricket was not an English invention but probably started in Australia. The first record of tea being taken was on the 1890-91 tour of Australia in the very early years of the Ashes. It’s typical of facts to get in the way of a good story.

Perfect picnic recipes
Perfect picnic recipes

I get particularly sentimental about the teas of my childhood at this time of year, as Canterbury cricket week used to take place around now. This was a whole week of games played at the St Lawrence ground, famous for having a lime tree within the playing area. The ground was surrounded by white canvas tents, each with its own sponsor. There was a carnival atmosphere and we spent seven joyous days making friends, autograph-hunting and exploring.

As children we played on the outfield during the midday and tea intervals, having eaten our packed lunches within minutes of arrival. I can get quite dewy-eyed at something as simple as a soft white roll filled with cheese and pickle simply because it takes me back to the long summer days of cricket week. The thing that really gets me, though, is the smell of the beer tent. I have occasionally been stopped in my tracks by that combination of damp grass, old canvas and hoppy beer. 

It wasn’t just about the men playing cricket; it was about children getting together and women seeing their friends. But times have changed and perhaps the cricket tea is a relic of the past

One day during cricket week I even got the autograph of the greatest Kent cricketer, Frank Woolley. He played during the pre-First World War Golden Age of cricket, so if it were somehow possible that I could meet him now I’d ask him if he remembered the origins of the cricket tea.

Now, I see companies advertising cheap cricket tea services (including pizza: sacrilege) and clubs desperately trying to find volunteers to give up their weekends to cater for the local club. I think they are swimming against the tide. The reason I got to enjoy those cricket teas as a boy was because they were social events where everyone had a role and something to gain from being there. It wasn’t just about the men playing cricket; it was about children getting together and women seeing their friends. But times have changed and perhaps the cricket tea is a relic of the past. I hope not.

Try Stephen's cricket tea recipes: roast beef cold cuts and lemon drizzle cake

Sandwiches and lemon drizzle cake
"I won’t insult your intelligence by telling you how to make sandwiches, but here’s a recipe for a great filling – and a great British drizzle cake to follow"