Bourbon biscuits are better home-made

I am a big fan of a tea break. I don’t mean afternoon tea or high tea (although I’m never going to say no to a finger sandwich or a tiny cake), and I don’t mean a mug of tea at my desk or standing up in the kitchen while I do something else. I believe passionately in the restorative powers of just sitting down for fifteen minutes with a mug of something hot and a plate of biscuits.

Tea and biscuits have always held an important place in my days. When I was very little, I had a Spot the Dog tea set that, every morning, my mother would fill with warm milk when she made her own morning brew. At college, our librarian insisted on tea breaks in her office to carve up the days of studying – or, in my case, procrastination while waiting for the bar to open. And then, in my previous life as a barrister, there was chambers tea. Chambers tea is something of an institution, although normally one found in those sets of chambers which specialise in law that keeps you in the office for most of the day; where at the appointed hour, there is likely to be a good cohort of barristers ready for a cup of tea, a biscuit, and a gossip. It’s less common in criminal law, where barristers spend most of their time hoofing it from court to court, and slope into chambers at the end of the day to pick up the following day’s briefs. But thankfully, one of my chambers-mates knew the value of a tea break, and persevered in spite of our unpredictable schedules. Teas ranging from the bog standard to the high-falutin lined the mantlepiece, ready to be brought out with reverence at 4pm.

It is, to my mind, the very best way of taking a break, getting out of your own head, and sitting down with colleagues or friends (or just your mum).