It's true that afternoon tea at the Savoy is an English tradition -- but that doesn't mean it has always been. For instance, there was one time when it was interrupted: back in 1370, when the Savoy Palace was burned down by peasants -- who didn't even have a reservation.

And there's virtually no chance that at the time, Richard II was eating crustless cucumber sandwiches.

Still, there's a powerful weight of ritual to tea at the Savoy, where in the middle of each afternoon tail-coated waiters stand by low tables and armchairs, awaiting the choice of Earl Grey or Savoy Blend. Steadily, the pastel room fills up with tea-deprived gentlemen in regimental ties and women in flowered dresses or long skirts -- and one American teenager with a back pack and backwards baseball cap.

At precisely three o'clock, the formally-dressed figure at the white grand piano in the center of the room swings into Moon River, and we're off.

Tea for You You don't have to travel to London to sample the best teas. Remember, the sun never used to set on the British Empire -- meaning that the best brews can be found all over. Check out some of our favorites in this Top Picks classic!

That means the waiter suddenly materializes with a gleaming, three-level Christmas tree of a tea tray. The bottom level consists of finger sandwiches -- smoked salmon, cucumber, egg salad, shrimp salad, tomato -- with crusts not so much cut off as made to disappear. When the sandwich plate emptied, a full replacement was swept in.

The next story held an arrangement of tiny, elaborate pastries, including a chocolate-custard eclair and a two-tier raspberry tart with fresh raspberries on one butter cookie serving as weight-bearing pillars for another cookie. On the top level, demurely covered, were scones, with pots of jam and clotted cream, three of the most caloric elements known to modern physics -- a sort of holy trinity of cellulite.

By now, the pianist had gotten to Yesterday.

Everybody in the long flowered skirts seemed very happy.

The waiters in the tail-coats seemed absolutely content for people to remain until night fell over the finger sandwiches. Many of the tea-sippers also seemed ready to wait -- and certainly unready to do anything else.

In the United States, around 5:00 p.m. Eastern Standard Time, millions of people have just been alarmed by soap opera revelations that Brandon didn't really know it was Jessica's baby that he sold to P.J. after sleeping with Melissa. At 5:00 Greenwich Mean Time, millions of people have just ingested enough butterfat to cheer up the British Commonwealth -- before India left.

Hot, Sweet, and Strong More information on tea from our Digest

This may explain why their rush hour seems much calmer.

James Thurber once suggested that the great switch in modern life was the change from tea to alcohol as the standard late-afternoon beverage. If people drank too much tea, he pointed out, it only made them slightly stupid.

Nobody, after all, ever woke up the next day tattooed in Tijuana due to an overdose of Oolong.

This may be part of what's behind the intermittent '90s surge of interest in afternoon tea, at a time when bars get sued if their Happy Hour leaves people a little too happy. What they should get sued about, of course, is the quality of their chicken wings; this is a country that thinks "Finger Sandwiches" is the new Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle.

Nobody ever called afternoon tea happy hour; it's more like an intriguing interlude.

The prospect is enough to send you looking for a long, flowered dress.