Though I should leave it up to a caterer, I cannot help but include some of our tried and true family receipts. I should not have but did let Hamp. taste a melon scoop of my home made iced creams. History is my thing, and the first iced creams were made by hand. So far we have ginger, raspberry, and banana rum currant. We have mini iced cream cones for the young people to get a taste! Cover an empty cereal box with white wrapping paper, punch holes in and you have an iced cream mini cone holder! Hamp thinks this will be a hit.

The other real authentic thing is THE SHRIMP. I hate to tell you that people do not take a chance on local shrimp for big formal events. Better to go with the frozen prepeeled firm shrimp. We are having my shrimp man, Tommy, who takes his shrimp boat out to sea from Charleston, bring us 100 lbs of shrimp. And peeled and deveined1 A pretty penny, but our guests are worth it. Right now they are “roe shrimp”, not as firm or pretty, but oh, so good and tender.

The other authentic thing to be served is that wild boar you can read about further down from our land. A Charlestonian has also given me his tried and true receipt for the most tender beef and is loaning me his meat slicer. I tried out the method on the family tonight with Hamp as our dinner guest, without the slicer. It and the melt in your mouth flat pole beans were not wasted on him.

An encouraging word goes a long way, restoring the spirit and refreshing the soul. He believes in me. He believes this is going to be the most authentic Charleston party ever. He is connecting me to that hope rising within when I about said, “Just wake me up when it’s over.” Where would we be without those whose guttural response is an encouraging word?

Thank you to those who give that encouraging word about my tour for others to read. Inviting people into our home makes one vulnerable. When I’m down and troubled and I need a helping hand, I thank God for James Taylor and those on my tour who have expressed appreciation to remind me, “You have a Friend.” Thank you!

I believe it was the Jewish people who gave Charleston the nick name the Holy City.  Who else could?  Our guarantee of religious freedom and tolerance in our colony brought us some of the first Jewish immigrants.  When the Marquis de Lafayette visited every state for our 50th Anniversary as a nation, it was Charleston who first presented the Jewish congregations to the Nation’s Guest along with Christian congregations and ethnic and civic societies.  It was here that his secretary Levasseur first wrote of the disproportional  contribution the Jewish volunteers made to the American Cause for LIBERTY.  Here they were considered “A Portion of the People”.

We are geographically set apart on the Peninsula for a special purpose and grow more peculiar, distinct and different as the rest of the world changes and we preserve our heritage both architecturally and culturally.  “Where are the sky scrapers, the business section” many of you ask.  “I need to get my bearings.”  I answer, “Our church steeples are still our sky scrapers.”Despite wars, fires, hurricanes, tornadoes, Earthquake of 1886, British bombardment, Union bombardment,  ransacking, and the ravages of time, Charleston still looks like the oldest city in America.  We formed the first Preservation Society of any city in the nation in 1920 under Susan Pringle Frost.

“People come here who have heard rumors from friends of an old city still left with high walls, and gardens barely visible through wrought iron gates, of houses with plum colored roofs.  We have something new for their eyes to see.  If you are weary of the syncopated unrest of a crazy world, come here and set your feet to a saner tempo.  ‘What would we gain by that’, you ask; ‘all we’d accomplish would be to get out of step with the rest of the world.’  We do not argue the point, but if you would only do it for a bit, you would leave us wiser than when you came; for the streets of Charleston have something to give them who walk them in a receptive mood that will make life forever richer.”

Beware!  The Holy City of Charleston is infectious!  I am a servant of the Holy City as one says trying to convert you at every turn, to allow that passion I have to be yours as well.  It is a rich history here with many layers still to be unpeeled, held within family portraits, papers, diaries, letters, and unpublished novels.  Charles Waring, editor of the salmon papers of the Charleston Mercury, told me last night at The Wedding at St. Philip’s on Church Street of our minister’s daughter, Katie, that he has an unpublished novel by an ancestor of his family about Lafeyette!  I want to read that historic fiction, as those of you who have heard me wax poetic about this French Founding Father can imagine. One life time is too short to discover all the facets of our city’s heritage.  Come and see!  “Ho!  Everyone that thirsteth, come ye to the water.  Ye that have no money, come ye buy and eat. Wherefore do you give your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which satisfieth not?”

I look forward to meeting you, feeding both body and soul if you are in a receptive mood.  A sumptuous feast of the senses awaits you!–Laura Wichmann Hipp 843-577-5896

Tackling a wild boar, even though a small one is Nothing compared to tackling twenty five years of marriage to the same man, Preston Hipp!  Now that is Wild!  Our silver anniversary is today and I did not need a thing.  What did The Man do?  He gave me silver, naturally, from Croghans, no less, a well worn path created for his mother by his father, Charles Rucker Hipp.  Preston’s family came to Charleston because of the Heywards, whose ancestor Thomas Heyward signed the Declaration of Independence., whose descendant shot that wild boar, you see.  What was the silver he gave me?  Come and see!  It is something I do not have and something I will always cherish.  Two gifts actually.  He was giddy with excitement like the young man he was when he had the diamond ring in his pocket for a few weeks before he asked me to marry him.

He gave me this morning at breakfast an old silver basket lined in an etched glass vase for which I picked the last of the daffodils on John’s Island.  It had arrived that very day to Croghans.  But then he saw a silver jar to hold tea leaves he thought, a tea caddy, and  Lover that he is,  he bought that for me, too.  I asked why both, why not one or the other.  He said he liked that one and wanted me to have that, too.  I will keep it on the tea tray cart to add more tea when serving.  The real miracle he said is that they are from the man who the real estate market has not been kind to these last few years.  A silver wedding anniversary only comes around once.  We have the silver punch bowl that was the silver anniversary gift from Mr. Harleston to his wife, Frances, from Birlant’s Antique store where he proudly bought it.  That punch bowl graced many a table for church events as I was growing up before she passed it on to me.  Little did I know that in referring to it as their silver wedding anniversary gift, I was setting a standard for my own.

A day of wine and roses it has been.  Kind thoughts of guests for today’s Charleston Tea Party Private Tour, and friends…but then my husband says we should share the hurts of life, lest all should think we live behind a veneer of perfection.  My beloved mother, who has kept the walking tour going until last spring, is turning into an octogenarian this month.  She alas has begun this week treatment for the C word in her throat we all hate.  My own husband, 53, the most loved and best looking man in Charleston, fit as a fiddle, has  that prostate C word, too.

We are not immune to the visisitudes of life; but we are blessed with a community of life as it should be being lived out.  It is not just a shell of a city of historic houses.  There is a heritage of the faith of our fathers that runs deep and steadies us still.  It is an attitude of gratitude.  Come, partake; eat and drink.  You will leave us wiser than when you came.

We have had nonstop rain, but now the sun is out, and the sky is a deep blue, illuminating what looked so gray, now transformed to brilliant colors.  White By the Gate is my glorious, snowy white camellia in bloom in the back garden right by the back steps, so white it is an affront to all impurity. Our Old Charleston Carolina Gray brick wall has green moss appliqued by time on rose brick making that brick more than just building material. The very bricks have become saturated with emanations of heroism.  What deeds of sacrifice and patient toil have gone into this city’s making and preservation!  Charleston is a City Mellowed By Time, as captured by the Charleston Renaissance artist, Elizabeth O’Neill Verner.  Once you get Charleston under your skin, she gets in your blood, bidding you to return, like a pilgrimage to refresh the soul and to set it in order, or as a lover with her siren call.  As a vegetable lady street vender with her wheel barrow said who went away and then moved back,”Chas’n keep  dem uda places from seemin natchel.”  Ain’t it just the trute!

I discovered a new shop that I had only run past and noted before.  It is hidden away on Burns Lane between Meeting and King, The Hidden Countship.  It is actually owned by count and countess.  (My brother’s Godson, Edward Scarborough, works there.  His father and I sailed together on the sailing team at the College of Charleston, he the senior and i the lowly freshman.)  The Count and Countess were in Savannah, leaving for Italy, when someone challenged them to come to Charleston saying they had not seen the South if they had not been here, and so close to Savannah.  They delayed their return home a day, came to Charleston, and bought a house here the next day!  They prefer Charleston to anywhere in Italy!  Wow!  No wonder Conde Naste voted the same way, with Charleston being the number one destination in The Whole Wide World!  We are blessed beyond measure!  A delightful retired Dartmouth professor, Dr.D’Lia, on my tour introduced me to this shop.  It is filled with interesting things, new and old.  I have a painting of an Italian villa, La Peggio, in an arch over my dining room door, which they have on their ad card.

For those who go on my Shop Till You Drop Antiques Tour, it is added!  You can see my most recent purchase, a functional piece of equipment, an 18th century mahogany linen press.  It is in the humble butler’s pantry, a room newly wallpapered along with my dining room in Fra Angelica’s glistening gold as in San Marco in Florence.  The light has to be right in both places to capture it.  I am using the linen press for storage of cookbooks and crystal and china, but also for additional counter space!  The trays slide out, one inch high, so as to provide additional space to plate food when the marble counters are full of dishes.  A practical piece it is,  for me to enjoy using as well as regarding from the kitchen.  Thank you, Lord, and thank you, the guests on my tour!  I am enjoying the fruits of my labor.

If you cannot find an affordable place big enough, I have a vacation rental by owner in downtown Charleston some of you may wish to consider.  It is booked for most of May but has openings for the last week of February and most of March. It is listed with Home Away # 5127820805, and VRBO #404882  as Charleston Tea Party Private Tour Launches Vacation Rental.  I has 3 bedrooms, a living room, dining area, and a full kitchen, and two full baths.  It sleeps up to 7.  I have enjoyed furnishing it with vintage finds from Charleston antique shops and estate sales.  It is not luxurious, but is easy, with a two car garage, unheard of in Charleston.   It is within walking distance of Hominy Grill, a popular restaurant where you  must have fried grits.  It is better than it sounds!  there is also a free trolley pick up a minute walk away to take you all over the historic city’s peninsula.

I love it when people can stay a week, not because I make more money, but because you get free nights if you stay past 4 days!  I want you to come and experience what it is like to live here.  My vacation rental is for those who make Charleston part of their spiritual renewal, what keeps them hanging on.  Times they are a changin, but Charleston just improves, like a good rich wine.  Come!  Drink deeply!  Call me for a tour or a stay or both at 843-577-5896–Laura Wichmann Hipp

I believe we are on a time line of history.  No one knows the day or the hour of His coming.  But just as He came bursting forth into our world as a vulnerable babe on Christmas morn, fulfilling prophesies foretold, He will come again, this time in glory to judge both the quick and the dead.  St. Philips, the Mother Church of all churches South of Virginia, the first congregation in the Carolinas, is my church, the old, decrepit, tall steepled one on Church St., stuccoed over and mellowed by time.  The first Sunday of Advent we heard the words of Jesus telling his inner core followers on the eve of His departure what would be the signs of His return.  It was Luke chapter 21.  Suddenly I had ears to hear in modern terms. One sign Jesus gave was, “There will be perplexity among the nations concerning the seas and the roaring of the waves.”  Wow!  Is not that what we call “global warming” and “rising sea levels” and “the melting of the polar ice caps”?  In Charleston we notice the higher than usual sea levels washing into streets on the water’s edge as never before.  We are perplexed.  As are all nations, so curiously together.

I went to Handel’s Messiah by the full orchestra of the Charleston Symphony Orchestra and the Singers Guild in the Cathedral on Broad and Legare.  ”And the glory of the Lord shall be reveal-ed”  is contrasted with “I will sha-a-ake the heavens, the seas, the dry land…” “And darkness shall cover the earth.”  Could this prophesy be what it will be like if an electro- magnetic pulse occurs?  All electricity will be out as well as the power of the world of technology.   Our tower of Babel will be fallen that we rely on.  ”Fallen fallen is that great city of Babylon,” the world economy.

Yet it is in this time of trial that we are to “lift up your heads, oh ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, that the King of Glory shall come in.  Who is this King of Glory?  The Lord of hosts…the Lord strong and mighty, mighty in battle.  Lift up your heads!”  ”He is the King of Glory!”  Jesus said when you see these things begin to come to pass, lift up your heads, for your redemption draweth nigh.  The world who knows Him not will be perplexed,  worried, and downcast, but He reveals His secrets to His servants, the ones who serve Him and who listen to the Voice of the universe, the Creator of heaven and earth.  He who has ears to hear, let him hear.  In every culture, nation, and religion, whosoever will seek the Truth will recognize the Truth, and the Truth will set him free.  We who have heard His warning signs of His return are to be lifted up.  So lift up your heads this Christmas and Rejoice greatly.

I jumped and danced tonight at the debutante  ball.  I hope you dance this Christmas, even if like me, more often than not, you are in your cozy kitchen, a humble but joyful servant to your family and friends.   Merry Christmas 2012!

Mincemeat tarts like I grew up with made by my English mother are the offering for tea this Christmas.

Charleston kitchens historically had marble counters though not big kitchens.  When Frances Smythe Edmonds was asked if the Historic Charleston Foundation she directed could have a kitchen tour, her response was, ” Why would anybody want to see inside a kitchen?  The only thing I want to see in the kitchen is the cook!”

Varnetta, who is my help at home, helps me serve and often gets mistaken for the cook.  She confesses she does not like to cook; she likes to clean, and for that, I am truly thankful.  My husband calls her the core of our family’s sanity.  Right now though he is challenged, for the upheaval in getting the house restored with workmen in and out and the dust that keeps settling and resettling is, as Romney infamously said, disconcerting. Varnetta is pure Gullah, for those who want to hear the real language of our locals.  She does not talk much; she likes to get her work done.  But she will tell you about her upbringing across the “Cuppa” River, the eldest of TEN; which sounds like tan, the proper way in Charleston.  She “had to Towit de wood and de woda”.  They didn’t have “Heit!” or “runnin woda.”

Thank God she is coming in the morning.  I have a tour for a dozen at the white linened table, which I have set with Blue and White Canton Ware of the 1800′s, but she will tackle the dust!

Mincemeat tarts are the tea offering after a hearty soup served in a large tureen that has been in the family.  Okra in moderation is in the soup.  As I serve Varnetta will talk about how her daddy grew okra.  ”Owekra” is said better by her than anyone other Charlestonian, but she will confess she “nava did like owekra”, predisposing everyone to cling to their prejudice against this quintessential Southern vegetable so good for you and a natural thickener without the starch.

I was advised not to tell my readers about my marble counters by an marketiing/computer expert.  But I cannot help myself; I have to thank you because i am truly thinking of you who come on my tour who made this change possible.  Often those who work in the service industry are so used to serving and giving of themselves to make others happy that they do not spend on themselves. I look at it in awe.  The image of a hole in the wall kitchen trying to serve a 5 star restaurant that lost diners sometimes catch a glimpse of behind the scenes is how I have felt about my kitchen.  It still has the original cabinets, but now with a honey glow to the old pine we stripped and varnished.

My tour is at nine and it’s almost midnight.  I hope to see you soon so that I can thank you in person and show you your square inch of my marble counters!

Many thanks to the people on my tour, especially the 50th birthday friends of Lisa from  Tallahassee, Florida, the first who gave to keep this church a church.  Thank you to others on my tour who wrote checks to Redeemer Church instead of to me.  The congregation is of students at the College of Charleston, medical students, young people and young married couples who have committed to paying the loan of 1.6 million dollars!  That is a big commitment;  that’s what you call a leap of faith!  It’s enough to make anybody want to help.  This is the congregation that will see Charleston and America into the future.  They support with groceries Lowcountry Crisis Ministries; they go and play with the kids of homeless shelter.  They have Cru, young people who walk on the beach to interact with those needing spiritual guidance, the modern takeoff of Campus Crusade for Christ.  They are dynamic movers and shakers, as the church should be, with reports of those reached being given on Sundays.  They also sing beautifully with all those young pure voices.  Craig Bailey is the upbeat, optimistic minister who is so comfortable being completely himself,  trusting in the hilarious favor of the Giver of all good things.  No good thing will He withhold from those who walk uprightly!

If Charleston cannot keep our churches holy, then there is no hope for anywhere else.  The world looks to us to get it right.  We are the City on a hill whose light cannot be hid.  The impossible has happened.  Cheers to all who made the sacrifices and commitments to make this purchase possible.  Now that the property is Redeemer’s, the sky’s the limit on all the ideas they will have time and place to explore.  While this is not my church, I do visit and encourage you to do the same .  The light is shining more brightly this All Hallows Eve in Charleston, pushing back the darkness.  Let me know if you are interested in seeing this church on my tour and I will make a detour as I occasionally do.  It has some of the most beautiful stained glass in the city.  Mayor Riley, who has been mayor of Charleston for 40 years,  as a boy sat under the stained glass window of an angel with arms crossed with his grandmother growing up.  He too has been supportive in wanting to see this church preserved as a functioning church.   Each person makes a difference.

We are humbled by this designation of top in America and top in the world.  Cape Town South Africa is second to Charleston.  Florence, Italy is third.  In the United States, San Francisco is second, Chicago is third, Santa Fe, New Mexico is fourth, New York City is fifth, and Savannah, Georgia is tenth.  ”It’s the history, the restaurants, the historical churches, and the graveyards.  We always find something we have never seen before.”  ”It’s like heaven.”  These are some of the quotes in today’s paper.  The Holy City of Charleston is working her way into people’s hearts across the world.  As the world changes, Charleston matures like an old wine, getting more and more full bodied.  Our Judea-Christian family values make this city the place of depth and heritage it is.  To experience the restaurants and bars and shops is to know only the superficial surface.

The view of Charleston I try to give on my tour is the view we have who have been born and raised here.  I cannot give you any other view than that of a native Charlestonian.  What you get on my tour is the real Laura Wichmann Hipp.  I do not try to be someone I am not; everybody else is already taken.  As an ambassador of Charleston to the world, I try to give you that bird’s eye view of history as it relates to American and European history and to where we are today and where we are going.  If we do not learn the lessons from history, we will be doomed to repeat them.  Our LIBERTY was bought at a price by the sacrifice and patient toil of many individuals.  To understand who and where we are today, we must look back at the patterns of history.  Thank God for Charleston’s creation and preservation, and for all the blessings of this life, but above all for that inestimable love that sets Charleston apart as the Holy City in our hearts.