We walked up a few steps to the second floor of an old, Victorian house. Outside the door, there was a small bureau covered in antique tea cups and saucers displaying their menu and accolades to passers by. When you step through the door, a waft of sweet, fragrant air envelopes you. The house feels lived in and although it’s been transformed into a cafe, the bones of the homey residence remain.

The walls were covered in vintage china plates scattered like birds across the pale blue sky coloured wallpaper. Every chair and table was different from one another and seemed to have been cobbled together as the cafe grew. We snagged a table on the second floor against the windows. The fresh air was like lifeblood to me, and I slowly began to awaken. There were all sorts of different things we could order, but we settled on the afternoon tea set. It came complete with a large pot of tea of our choosing, a selection of sandwiches and cake, two scones, cream and jam.

There is something about tiny food that just excites me. I have always loved sharing platters, being able to taste a bit of everything, so this was right up my alley. One of the unique dishes we were served was smoked salmon and cream atop a Scottish treat called an oat cake. Sarah maintained that it was very traditional so we relished in trying something new!

My favourite thing we ate, by far and away, were the scones. There is nothing like an English (or Scottish) scone. They just know how to do it right. The cream was so thick and sweet without being overbearing. And the jam, oh the jam! It was rhubarb jam! It’s not often you get rhubarb jam, and it’s one of my favourites so this meal felt extra special.

As our lunch was winding down, I wandered around the restaurant, soaking up every inch of this place. If there was ever somewhere the felt like home, it was here. This is what I have always dreamed my home would look like. Covered floor to ceiling in treasures, bright colours, the smell of baked good permeating the air. Even the bathroom as replete with artistry. The tiles on the walls were painted with Art Nouveau printed by Alphonse Mucha, one of my favourite artists! It was meant to be.

Once our meal had all but disappeared and our teapot was empty, we knew it was time to go (although we knew we’d be back before the week was out). We walked down the emerald green staircase, adorned in prints of Scottish men dressed in their finery, and skipped down the cobblestones street, filled with a renewed energy after our long flight, and ready to take on the rest of the day!

The post The Butterfly & The Pig Afternoon Tea in Glasgow first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.