The Flour Box Tea Room and Cafe
It's time for 'me time'
Flour Box Tea Room is more than a physical location. It is a feeling that at this moment in time, you are exactly where you need to be. Back in the summer of 2010, while working at a laboratory in Wetherby, England, Milla had the opportunity to visit a number of tea rooms throughout the UK. It took a while for the feeling to grow, but when opportunity knocked it led her to a small bakery site in Winston Salem, NC.
Milla left her laboratory job and walked through the bakery door where for two years she honed her craft at Flour Box Bakery. But the bakery didn't feel like her moment in time. It was two years later that opportunity knocked a second time in Old Salem Museums and Gardens. This time, the door was opened into Flour Box Tea Room & Cafe. It was then that Milla knew the tea room was where she needed to be. The savories and sweets repertoire grew as did the numbers of customers and after 3 years the tea room began to "feel its walls." The Flour Box then moved to a larger location in Winston-Salem for a few years and has now moved to Kernersville where it has expanded into two suites off of NC Hwy 66.
"We are slowly decorating our new space as we grow accustomed to it," Milla smiles. "I'm often asked what is involved in opening a tearoom," she offers, "I think this poem 'Me Time' by my hubby sums it up nicely!" Menu repertoires are insatiable and so Milla has been researching and trying new recipes to keep the tea room experience fresh. She wants you to feel that when you visit the tea room, you are exactly where you need to be at that moment.
Me Time
When the tiers have been emptied
and the teas have been sipped
and the tables have been bussed
and the girls have been tipped,
when the cups and the saucers
are all washed, rinsed, and dried,
Then it’s time for “me time”;
it’s my tea time to bide.
The kettle hisses and whistles,
“The water is hot!!”
I pour and I swish
and I rinse out the pot.
A measure of leaves,
in the strainer awaits
a long soaking bath,
and some sweets on a plate.
By the light of my laptop
I sip and I ponder,
“One more email?
Or a recipe?” I wonder.
One more trip around
the minute hand does race
wiping the day’s sweat
from the clock, off its face.
Then off to bed
and its calming caress,
and the cares of the day
become less and less
