How to Make a London Fog: The Romantic Earl Grey Tea Latte

Come closer, dear friend, for I have a winter’s secret to share. When frost paints the windows and the fire crackles low, there is one cup I adore above many others — the London Fog. A cousin of the traditional latte, it weds the brisk strength of Earl Grey with the softness of steamed milk and a whisper of vanilla. The effect is as comforting as fog upon the Thames: soft, enveloping, and quietly magical.

Though its name conjures visions of gas lamps, hansom cabs, and mist curling through old London’s streets, the London Fog’s story is a modern one. It first arose in a Canadian café, when a thoughtful guest requested her Earl Grey softened with steamed milk and vanilla. The combination proved so delightful that word spread from shop to shop, and soon the drink travelled across borders and continents. Before long, the London Fog was embraced as a favourite comfort in coffee houses far and wide.

There is a certain romance in such a tale: a single request, made on what one imagines was a grey, windswept day, becoming the seed of a global tradition. In this way, the London Fog is a perfect emblem of tea itself — humble beginnings blossoming into enduring fellowship.

I myself first tasted a London Fog at the suggestion of a Canadian acquaintance. We were taking shelter from a blustery afternoon, the sort that leaves one’s cheeks stung and hair hopelessly undone. “This,” she said with a smile, “is the very thing for weather like ours.”

She was right. The cup arrived, steaming, fragrant with bergamot, and crowned with soft froth. At first sip, I felt the contrast: the boldness of black tea, the floral lift of bergamot, the gentle embrace of milk, and the sweet sigh of vanilla. It was as though the storm outside had been muffled by velvet curtains.

Since then, it has become a parlour favourite. Clara insists it is the very thing to sweeten even the greyest day, and she is right, as she so often is. When the skies lower and the lamps glow earlier than they should, a London Fog in crystal cup or tall mug feels like companionship itself.

The soul of a London Fog is its tea, and none but Earl Grey will do. Named for Charles Grey, Britain’s Prime Minister of the 1830s, the blend is distinguished by its infusion of bergamot oil — a citrus fruit cultivated in Italy, with a fragrance both floral and lightly bitter. Earl Grey has long been a symbol of refinement and friendship, often served in parlours as the perfect mid-afternoon companion.

In my own collection, I find our classic Earl Grey creates a London Fog with clarity and balance, while French Earl Grey, with its additional hibiscus petals and fruit, offers a romantic twist — as though the Thames had drifted into Paris for an afternoon of indulgence. Both work beautifully, depending on one’s mood and company.

Ingredients (serves 1)

1 Earl Grey teabag or 1 teaspoon loose leaf

240 ml (1 cup) hot water

120 ml (½ cup) steamed milk

1 teaspoon sugar, honey, or caramel syrup (to taste)

½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Method

Steep the Earl Grey in freshly boiled water for 4–5 minutes, until strong and fragrant.

While it brews, steam or gently heat the milk until frothy. If you have no steamer, whisk briskly while heating to create the desired “fog.”

Sweeten the tea with sugar, honey, or caramel syrup, then stir in the vanilla.

Pour in the steamed milk, letting the foam crown the top like morning mist.

The result is a cup as soft as the fog that inspired its name — fragrant, warming, and ever so comforting on cold afternoons.

What delight that this same recipe may be transformed for summer! On those days when the sun reigns high and no fire is needed, the London Fog becomes its chilled cousin. Smooth, fragrant, and refreshing, it is the perfect bridge between sophistication and ease.

Ingredients (serves 1)

1 Earl Grey teabag or 1 teaspoon loose leaf

120 ml (½ cup) boiling water

120 ml (½ cup) cold water

120 ml (½ cup) chilled milk

1 teaspoon sugar, honey, or vanilla syrup (to taste)

Ice cubes

Method

Steep the Earl Grey in 120 ml of boiling water for 4–5 minutes to create a strong concentrate.

Remove the leaves or tea bag and stir in the sugar or syrup while warm.

Add 120 ml cold water to cool, then refrigerate until well chilled.

Pour over ice, top with cold milk, and stir gently.

Thus served, the drink is fragrant with bergamot, softened by milk, and sweetened with a sigh of vanilla — a cup as bright as summer itself.

The London Fog is more than a recipe; it is a ritual. I find it best enjoyed when one seeks comfort or clarity. Clara often prepares one for me when I have been writing too long by lamplight, murmuring that my eyes need rest and my spirit warmth. I, in turn, have made it for her on mornings when her hands, chilled by arranging roses in their vases, deserve a sweeter occupation.

At gatherings, a tray of London Fogs delights as much as a pot of classic Earl Grey, for guests love the novelty. Some prefer theirs lightly sweetened, others rich with caramel syrup, still others adorned with a pinch of cinnamon. Such is the charm of this drink — it welcomes variation, yet never loses its essence.

There is something poetic in the very appearance of a London Fog. Watch as the milk streams into the dark tea, swirling like mist across water, softening all it touches. Within moments, the drink is transformed, and so too is one’s mood.

Perhaps that is why the London Fog feels so beloved: it speaks to our yearning for gentleness. In a world that presses us with speed and noise, this cup invites us to pause, to breathe, to let warmth enfold us.

Whether the season calls for warmth beside the fire or coolness upon the verandah, the London Fog may be your companion. It is not ancient, yet it feels timeless. It is not complicated, yet it holds layers of delight. And like all good things, it began with a single person’s request for comfort — a reminder that from the simplest desires, the loveliest rituals can grow.