Where This All Began
- Apr 3
- 3 min read
Updated: Apr 4
A note from Kas
Tea was never just something we drank.
It was part of the rhythm of the day.
In the mornings at breakfast, again mid-morning, after lunch, mid-afternoon… sometimes even after dinner.
On colder days, it was something to warm your hands as much as anything else.
It was always there, quietly woven into everyday life.
A Table That Was Always Ready
On weekends, there was almost always a gathering.
Sometimes we hosted. Sometimes we visited.
Family, close friends...often both.
Tea was never served on its own.
There were always homemade baked goods like cookies, cakes, scones
and something savory as well.
Samosas, chili bites, small Indian appetizers, sweets that felt just as special as the occasion itself.
And even when visits were unplanned or unexpected, the response was always the same:
You were welcomed in.
A place was made.
Tea was offered.
Time That Was Meant to Be Shared
Growing up in a large family, time together often centered around the table.
Holidays, long weekends, celebrations...
They stretched into hours of shared meals, conversation, and inevitably… tea.
There was always time to sit.
Time to talk.
Time to catch up and reconnect.
And there was always room.
Room at the table.
Room for one more cup.
Room to stay a little longer than planned.
It created a feeling that’s hard to describe, but easy to recognize:
You were welcome.
You belonged.
The Women Who Shaped It All
Many women in my family, including my grandmother, mother, aunts, and even my cousins, were exceptional cooks and bakers.
Each had their own signature dishes, meals, and treats that were remembered, requested, and eagerly anticipated.
You knew who made what best.
And when you were visiting, you quietly hoped it would be one of those dishes.
Everything was made by hand.
With care.
With pride.
At the time, it simply felt like home.
It wasn’t until I moved away and settled in the United States, visiting only years apart, that I began to understand how rare that kind of experience was.
What I came to recognize is that, in our family, love often showed up in the care that went into preparing food.
When I would visit, they remembered.
The things I loved.
The things I missed.
And they would go out of their way to make sure those dishes were waiting at the table.
What Stayed With Me
I didn’t realize it then, but those moments would stay with me.
Not just the food, but the feeling.
The care behind it.
The intention.
The way people lingered without needing a reason.
That sense of being welcomed in, without formality.
Of being invited to sit, to stay, to connect.
What You’ll Find at Panache
In many ways, Panache is built on that same feeling.
It shows up in the way we serve.
In the flavors that find their way onto the menu.
In the way we approach time at the table.
At Panache, our approach to afternoon tea in Waterloo is shaped by these early experiences, by the belief that food prepared with care and time shared around a table can create something meaningful.
Not rushed.
Not overly formal.
But thoughtful.
Intentional.
And meant to be experienced.
A Familiar Feeling, Even If It’s New
Even if you’ve never experienced afternoon tea before,
there’s something about it that can feel familiar.
A table set with care.
Something warm in your hands.
Conversation that unfolds naturally.
And a moment where, without realizing it,
you’ve slowed down.
Some things are learned over time.
Others are simply carried with you.
Panache Tea Boutique
A pause for tea. A place for connection.
If you’ve been curious about what it feels like to sit at the table, you can read more here.
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