LEISURE MIDDAY BREWHAHA

EVERYONE KNOWS that tea is the greatest civilizing force since the fig leaf. It soothes the nerves, cheers the spirit, eases the flow of social discourse and strengthens the bonds of fellowship. The defects of present-day life are entirely the result of the weakness of the tea-drinking habit. Our local preference for soft drinks, coffee and cocktails goes hand-in-hand with our scandalously high divorce rate and intolerably bad manners on the freeway. Were Dallasites to turn to tea, our lives would benefit immeasurably. The only conceivable excuse for a lack of reverence toward tea is ignorance.

To brew a proper pot of tea, fill a kettle with fresh, cold water. Bring the water to a full boil, but do not overboil lest all the oxygen be removed and the resulting tea taste flat. Meanwhile, warm the teapot with hot water. (Pottery and china retain heat better than metal.) Empty and dry the pot, and measure one teaspoon of tea for each cup and “one for the pot.” This is the classic recipe, but it bears tampering. Pour the boiling water on the tea leaves -the heat of the water releases the caffeine (which provides stimulation) and the tannin (which provides taste). Steep about five minutes, depending on the type of tea (green tea takes the most time; black, the least). Since the heat continues to draw tannin from the leaves, which results in a bitter taste, it is wise to use a mesh basket to hold the leaves and remove the basket when the tea has steeped properly.

Pour the tea into your best china cups; serve with sugar, cream (good with black teas) or thin slices of lemon (to bring out the flavor of flowery green teas). Poundcake, tarts, bread and butter, sugar cookies, scones and jam enhance the flavor.

High tea is not synonymous with high society. As Miss Manners points out, the “high” means “it’s high time we eat.” High tea is a humble supper of bread, cheese, kidneys, deviled eggs and/or last night’s spaghetti. Low tea is a tea with finger sandwiches, petits fours, tarts and scones with jam that is partaken between four and five o’clock in the afternoon.

The pinky finger is not extended while one holds a cup aloft. One may blend discreet amounts of jam, honey or rum into the tea, but one must not drink the slops from the saucer. Serving instant tea is a monumental faux pas, on the order of chewing tobacco at the opera. Tea bags are for travel, battle on the front lines and the lunch counter.

Which brings us to teahouses, tea gardens, tea shops and tearooms. Dallas has no tea gardens or teahouses. A number of shops sell loose and packaged tea (along with coffee), and most grocery stores carry some of the more common brands. Alas, Dallas has not a single tearoom, although several first-class hotels and one department store have introduced afternoon tea service. Listed below are several spots for tea sipping.

The Mansion on Turtle Creek. When we arrive, a harpist is plying her strings. My daughter, Justine, chooses a table directly facing the front drive, the better to note the passengers disembarking from their Rolls-Royces and Mercedes. The table is set with a vase containing a yellow rose, an enormous white teapot and yellow napkins. On the far side of the room, a group of women in silks and pearls sits along a banquette; their talk bounces across the bare floor.

The tea cart, a massive affair bearing an urn and 14 yellow canisters of Twinings tea, is brought to our table. Justine chooses jasmine; I, Formosa oolong. The waiter sets out individual strainers and fills our teapots.

The thumb-size sandwiches are certainly dainty enough. We choose three each: pate, cucumber, ham, caviar and avocado in its own miniature shell. A waiter wheels up the pastry cart. We have a hard time choosing but settle on what Justine calls a “snowman” -a light chocolate ball sitting on top of a darker chocolate ball. I choose a raspberry basket -glazed raspberries adorned with a sliver of orange peel in their own chocolate basket. It’s as yummy as it looks. Tea would not be tea without scones, so we order scones for me and fresh raspberries for Justine. By the time we’re through, the room has emptied of tea drinkers.

I pay the bill (marveling at how we could spend $40 on mere tea), and we wind our way back to the front drive. In a caffeine-induced flush of generosity, I tip the valet and speed off. The Mansion, Promenade Room, 2821 Turtle Creek. Monday through Friday 3-5:30 p.m. 559-2100.

The Adolphus, lobby. I adore everything about the Adolphus, especially the deliciously haute bourgeois decor -busy, lush and muffled. My companion and I choose a spot that gives us privacy but still allows us to inspect passers-by. As there are few other tea drinkers when we arrive, we benefit from supremely attentive service.

Jane and I sit across from one another on green velvet armchairs, facing a low table. The neighboring sofa is covered in a floral chintz. The table is a delight: plates set on linen doilies, a pretty sugar bowl (no paper packets here) and cream pitcher, large ecru napkins. A waiter in a brass-buttoned Eton jacket promptly appears with the tea cart, which holds large flowered teapots, a huge silver urn and canisters of tea-14 varieties of Twinings plus Jackson’s Coronation and Lady Londonderry teas. Jane chooses Russian Caravan; I choose Queen Mary. The waiter fills each pot with hot water, sets out stainless steel strainers and small Chinese bowls, empties the pots, spoons-in loose tea and fills with water from the urn.

We pour our tea; the sandwich cart arrives and we’re asked our preferences. The sandwiches are small triangles and rectangles with nary a hint of crust. Our choices include cucumber with lettuce and alfalfa sprouts, salmon and tomato with cream cheese. The cucumber is hard to beat.

Pastries arrive next on a formidable cart -all gleaming silver, wood and glass. The display is sumptuous: The cream-filled swans are as delectable as they look; the mocha Kahlua cake is somehow too rich and yet nondescript. The nut cakes are nicely fruity. The waiter returns to offer us the afternoon edition of the Times Herald, neatly wrapped. Another waiter comes by -wouldn’t we care for another pastry? We couldn’t possibly eat another – well, maybe a wee taste of the nut roll (delicious) and a tiny kiwi tart (heavenly).

Other engagements keep us from lingering. We pay the bill (prix fixe at $10 each), take our newspapers and head for the garage, agreeing that tuna casserole will be perfectly adequate for dinner. The Adol-phus Hotel, 1321 Commerce. Monday through Friday 3-5 p.m. 742-8200.

Plaza of the A mericas, Salon A and B. For those who like tea in chaste surroundings, the Plaza is the place to go. It offers the most authentically English menu. At 3:30, my companion and I are the first to arrive for tea, so we make a beeline for the far end of the second salon -it has sofas. At our knees a small table laid with plates, silverware, cups, napkins, a single long-stemmed rose and tea service awaits us. Service here is swift and unobtrusive but is simple.

As for tea, we decide on darjeeling, the other choices being Earl Grey, jasmine, orange pekoe and English breakfast. The waitress offers sandwiches -rows upon rows of triangular tidbits arranged on a heavy tray. We try one of everything: shrimp, tomato, cucumber, ham, chicken and egg.

Finally, we are ready for the pastries – and what a daunting abundance! Laid out across an enormous wheeled table, they look positively Victorian en masse: strawberries, a huge bowl of whipped cream, little round rum cakes, Scottish shortcake, scones heaped on a pedestal, a tray of sliced breads and white meringues decorated with mandarin sections. Between us we sample almost everything, but by now I know to pass up scones. Too bland. I especially like the rum cakes, which are covered with chocolate and are rich and creamy inside. The bill for two is a very modest $13.50, a bargain considering the prodigality of the food. Plaza of the Americas, 650 N. Pearl. Monday through Friday 3-6 p.m. 747-7222.

Lincoln Radisson. Right in the middle of far North Dallas sits one of many shiny glass towers. Inside this particular tower, however, is a little oasis of civilization – the lounge where tea is served in the Lincoln Radisson Hotel. My daughter and I make our tea pilgrimage on the second day that tea service has been offered here, figuring that one day would be enough for the hotel to get the bugs out. We were wrong.

First, we have difficulty getting the waitress’ attention. She is cordial but is soon beset by interloping heavier drinkers who apparently are attracted to the tearoom’s atmosphere and lovely music. She’s unable to give us good service since she’s forever on the run to and from the bar at the far reaches of the lobby.

When the waitress, garbed in an ankle-length gray skirt and black Eton jacket, appears with the tea cart bearing a silver urn and purple canisters, we decide upon the Tea Royale – tea, sandwiches and pastry, $7 each. No more Mansion-style gorging. Among the 14 varieties offered, I choose Formosa oolong and Justine (whose tastes run to black fingernail polish and New Wave music) selects wild cherry. The tea is G.H. Ford, an unfamiliar brand. Sugar, however, is omitted. We must wait for the waitress to make her way back to request sugar. She asks whether we want one lump or two and departs with the bowl and tongs. One room -one bowl!

The sandwich/pastry cart arrives. Plastic wrap is whisked off the top of the sandwich tray (could there be flies in the Lincoln Radisson?), and I choose shrimp, salmon and roast beef. Justine has ham and cheese instead of salmon. The shrimp sandwich is a good-sized one, as tea sandwiches go, but it’s extended with egg and sharp onion. The salmon with cream cheese is perfect.

Pastries include spice cake, English tarts, apple strudel and various kinds of French crème-filled concoctions. My English tart is an excellent choice; it’s not too rich but has a wonderful almond flavor. Justine’s apple strudel is rather dry, and we’re out of tea. Lincoln Radisson Hotel, 5410 LBJ Frwy., lobby lounge. Monday through Friday 3-6 p.m. 934-8400.

The Potting Shed, Sanger Harris, Preston Center. Across from the beauty salon and behind the toys, this little nook is a quiet place decorated with hanging baskets, butcher-block tables and plaid vinyl chairs. My companion and I sit at a small table cluttered with sugar packets, butter squares, salt, pepper, ashtray, creamer and a vase with real carnations. Tea is a plain affair -no carts, no panache. Choices are English breakfast, Earl Grey and Royal Blend (the brand is Fort-num and Mason) served in institutional stainless steel pots.

We talk about tea customs and how we despise coffee and cigarettes. The waiter, mustachioed and aproned like a grocer, brings our sandwiches on scarred but serviceable white plates. There are four or five turkey rolls (dry), a big wedge of minced ham (uninspired) and a buttered rectangle with sliced zucchini and red onion curls (a repast somewhere between high and low teas). I like the zucchini best. No scones today, just English “biscuits” served with a big dollop of whipped butter and a tiny paper cup of strawberry jam. The cookies are too spicy for me, but I eat them anyway. The bill is in keeping with the modesty of the enterprise-$3.95 each -although not the bargain that the Plaza was. The Potting Shed, Monday through Friday 2:30-5 p.m. 987-6990.

Petticoats and Petits Fours. To take tea at Petticoats and Petits Fours is to step back in time to an era when ladies amused themselves with embroidery and china painting and scarcely appeared outside the home. P&PF is the unique enterprise of three Dallas women who decided to pool their interests in old houses, old clothes and fancy cooking. For groups of 40 or more, P&PF will stage a high tea-cum-fashion show in a restored Victorian house in McKinney.

Tea is served in the dining room, where a pinafored woman presides over the teapot. Tray upon tray of goodies adorn the table: delicate open sandwiches of cucumber, rolled sandwiches of chicken salad, apricot petits fours crisscrossed with icing, bonbons, jam-filled scones, custard-filled eclairs and a bowl of sliced oranges and kiwis. Even the sugar cubes are decorated with tiny pink rosettes.

Models parade in one by one wearingdresses of which every tuck was stitched byhand, petticoats layered with delicate laceand shoes made of softest kidskin. Thehandwork on the petticoats and skirt borders elicits oohs of admiration. “Wherewould you wear that?” someone asks. “Isthat really wool?” “Oh, don’t you love thathat!” And inevitably, “Let’s do this ourselves. Let’s have everyone dress up in oldclothes for tea!” Miss Manners would haveloved it. Petticoats and Petits Fours,McKinney. By appointment only. CallPam Chase at 526-2470.